


Truth Be Told

by Skaikru1017



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Badass weapons, Canonical Character Death, Cliffhangers, Crime, Crooked justice system, Deceit, Decent amount of non graphic violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Guns, Hero!Marcus, Hopefully Action Packed, Hurt/Comfort, Jaha is a dick as always, Journalist!Abby, Lies, Mild Angst, Modern AU, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Raven Reyes is an inspirational goddess, Secrets, Sometimes Fluff, Sometimes angst, Spiderman AU, Super Suits, The comic of my dreams, ish, more lies, past self-harm, superhero au, young au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-25 14:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 39,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10766160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skaikru1017/pseuds/Skaikru1017
Summary: Marcus and Abby have comfortable lives, sharing an apartment, helping each other make it in the race paced life in the big city. When a string of crimes and disturbances digs up old demons and new ones, will Marcus be able to deal with them? Will Abby be able to help him, or are these wounds too deep to heal? And when new opportunities arise, will he be able to keep up with his new life, will he be able to keep his promises, or will he die trying? Is this world all it seems, heroes and villains, good and bad, or is it something more? Truth be told, I don't know anymore.





	1. Runner

He wasn’t hiding, _no._ People hide when they’re scared, and he wasn’t scared. _Evading,_ that’s the word for it. He was evading. The best way to stick it to a bully is to not let them get you, so he didn’t. Pulling himself up into one of the large bay windows, a good 8 feet off the ground, watching the group of class clowns and rough and tumble idiots search blindly for him. It was all quite amusing, watching them tear down the hallways shouting his name, until he looked outside and saw……nothing. _It was pitch black,_ and he was late, _very late._ To make it worse, he wasn’t the only one who noticed. Marcus tries to answer the call quickly, but the loud ringing echoes through the halls and the sound of heavy footfalls get closer. “Where the hell are you?” Abby bites, he’s had to start running now, bursting through the school’s front doors, feet slapping on the pavement. “Uhh….. I’m uh….o _n my way_.”

 

“Why are you breathing like that?” Fumbling, Marcus is able to connect his earbuds to his phone, unable to keep it to his ear anymore. Jumping over benches, and scaling small walls. The group of 10 or so still hot on his tail. “ _Marcus Joseph Kane,_ explain yourself _now.”_ Groaning breathlessly, while ducking into an alley, pressing himself into the brick, releasing a breath when he isn’t spotted. “I uhh…. got held up at school.” It isn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. “Right,” he can hear the eye roll in her words, “Be home soon, your dinner is already cold.”

 

Normally he was already home by the time the city went dark, but now, with his hoodie up and hands jammed in his pockets he walked the streets and listened to the sound of sirens. Trying to look as intimidating as possible, which quite hard in oversized clothes and bright blue backpack. Normally, he'd have his earbuds in, listening to whatever music Abby had downloaded on his phone for the week. However, it was far too dark for him to be impaired in any of his senses. A sound vaguely similar to a scream catches his attention.

 

A man, or kid, he can’t tell, is pressing a gun to a sobbing woman’s back, rifling through her purse. Shoving her harder into the wall with every cry. On instinct, he starts running, tackling the guy to the ground. Full of heat-of-the-moment self-confidence. However, with one deft punch, the crook sends him reeling back, spitting blood onto the pavement. A painful ache in his jaw. Marcus picks himself up, wiping the crimson off his chin and adopting a fighting stance. “Look, kid, you can stay here and die, or you can walk away with your life, your choice.” High on Adrenaline and low on common sense, his eyes dart to the crook's right, looking for the absent weapon, it’s just a foot away from him, all he needs to do is lean down a little and…

 

Before Marcus can make his move, the woman grabs her discarded purse and runs out of the alley. “Oh well now you're screwed,” the man sneers, lunging forward and shoving Marcus into the wall. His head snaps back, and he can feel a sticky substance run down his neck. Marcus throws his body weight forward, sending both men tumbling to the ground. By some miracle, Marcus lands on top and begins throwing punch after punch almost blindly at the man beneath him.  Somewhere in the span of 2 solid minutes into the now subdued fist fight, the bandit jumps up, sprinting out of sight. He checks his watch, only 10 minutes have passed in what felt like hours, if he’s fast he can make it home in a reasonable time. Hopefully avoiding the wrath of Abigail Walters.

 

* * *

 

 _Not fast enough,_ he muses.The lights are off, _a bad sign,_ she’s already gone to bed. They have a routine, one they never break. She gets home first, he buys groceries on the weekends and she cooks dinner, always waiting up for him, and when Abby breaks routine, _you’re dead._

 

Although it might not be that bad, he’d have a couple hours of rest before getting the third degree. Thinking he’s safe, Marcus turns on the lights and drops his bag, only to have what he later finds out was a rolled up magazine connect with the back of his head. Causing a sharp pain he lets out in a hiss. Abby recoils when she notices his pain. Marcus rubs the spot, pulling his now bloodstained hand away from it when the pain subsides. Abby’s eyes flicker over him, taking in his battered body, rumpled clothes, and dazed look. Tears begin to well in the corner of her eyes, a tentative hand coming out to caress the cut on his cheek. Her hand falls to his shoulder, gripping the collar of his shirt. “Off,” She commands, failing to be stern. As a doctor, you can't let your emotions get in the way, its calm cool and collected or nothing. “Yes Ma’am,” Marcus replies, giving her the cheeky grin that never fails to make her laugh. With his shirt gone, Abby can determine not how long he’ll be sore, but how long she’s going to berate him for being so stupid. “You’ll live,” she states, cutting emotion out of her statement and prodding a very prominent bruise. Only to start giggling when he mumbles a, _for now, you haven't yelled at me yet_ , thinking she can’t hear him. A slow relieved smile starts to inch across her face with each cleaning of an injury, assuring her he really is _alright._ Only for it fade as he goes on with his story, by the end of it, Abby isn’t sure if she wants to scream at him until she can’t breathe, or kiss him until _neither_ of them can breathe. It’s a thought that resonates to her core, _she’s never thought about kissing him before._ She settles on a stern scolding, warning him he’ll never see the light of day if he ever tries _anything_ like that again.

 

* * *

 

 

He goes to school with any aching body, the after effects of his evening activities highly evident on his face. Abby walks beside him, a bright smile adorning her face, she always had been a morning person.

 

Thinking he’s safe, Marcus lets his guard down long enough to throw his books into his locker, and rest his head against the door, another wave of exhaustion halting his muscles. He’s jerked out of the locker as the metal door slams shut, then thrown back into it. Now surrounded by the same group from last night. “Hey, runner did _daddy_ come to visit last night?” Jake laughs, grabbing Marcus’ face roughly and admiring the cuts and bruises.

 

He and Jake had been friends once when they were kids. He was 9 when it happened, Jake was 8. Marcus’ father came home drunker than usual. He’d beaten Marcus in front of Jake, knocking him out cold. Jake’s parents had separated them after that, not allowing the two boys to spend time with one another. Jake had ended needing psychiatric help, blaming Marcus for making him _different._ The blame had turned into rancor that hadn’t dulled one bit over the years.

 

“Hands off _Griffin_ ," Marcus spits, shoving Jake into his groupies. “What are you gonna do about it, _Kane.”_ Marcus knows it’s a low blow, but he’s been dealing with Jake Griffin passively for far too long. He’s walking out of this with his head held high or in handcuffs, no in between. “Guess your therapy didn’t help, you're still the same scared kid you always were.” Jake’s jaw clenches painfully, cracking his knuckles in a failed intimidation attempt. “What makes you so sure about that?” He can feel the tension, a crowd has gathered, watching the spectacle unfold, silent gasps and whispered messages escaping their mouths. “You haven’t punched me yet, not once, you're too scared. All your life you were sheltered, perfect parents, perfect life. You don’t know how to deal with your problems.” The crowd oo’s and ahh’s, encouraging Marcus further. “I grew up having to fend for myself, fight for my life. You’re scared of me, scared of what I’m capable of. So you test me, test how far you can push me, truth is. In all honesty, I could’ve knocked you on your ass a long time ago, but I didn’t, and I won’t. _I_ _f_ you don’t ask for it.” Jake takes a step forward, raising his fists, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it to the floor, Marcus copying his stance. Jake lunges first, all anger no thought,

Marcus dodges easily, wrapping him in a headlock he can’t escape. A witty retort is on his lips, but it’s cut off by an enraged calling of his name. “ _Marcus!_ _Let go of him,_ ** _now_**!” Something in her voice makes him release his hold immediately, startled by the choked breath Jake takes in. Not realizing he’d been choking him. Much to his surprise, and amusement, Abby begins to rail on Jake for instigating, ultimately marching him into the principal’s office. Leaving Marcus alone with his thoughts.

Checking his watch and seeing it was already halfway through second hour Marcus made a choice. Seeing as it was the last week of school and he honestly had no idea why he’d even showed up, his diploma was already sitting framed sitting next to a picture of he and Abby when they first bought the apartment. He made his way to the gym, more specifically the weight room. Unable to feel the reinvigorated pain, Marcus begins hitting the old worn out punching bag with abandon. Not stopping until his knuckles are raw and bleeding until he can’t feel anything but the burn of his muscles and the sting of sweat in fresh cuts.

 

“What the hell were you thinking, _fighting Jake Griffin,_  Marcus you’re better than that,” her voice is so soft he almost doesn’t hear the last part, he wishes he didn’t, “At least I thought you were.” His bare back is to her, she can’t see the tears rolling down his face, Jake’s words still echoing in his turbulent mind.

 

_Did daddy come to visit last night?_

 

He hasn’t thought about his father in years, he’d been pushed out of his life the day he’d finally been arrested, and Marcus was just fine with that. The scars from where his belt had carved paths down his back still vaguely visible to the keen eye, _Abby’s eye._

Every mistake, every forgotten ‘Yes, sir’, every ill performed task was another mark, another reminder of how powerless he used to be. Other marks litter his back and shoulders, marks he prefers not to think about, _a time before Abby._ She can’t help him now though. “Marcus….. Marcus, will you please just look at me?” He does, she sounds so hurt, he doesn’t want to be the cause of her pain. They’ve protected each other like brother and sister since they day they met. Her eyes are glazed over with unshed tears, he may be sweaty, exhausted and still teeming with pent-up emotion but his arms open and she falls effortlessly into them, sobbing “You can’t go back, Marcus…..You just can’t.”

Cradling her against his chest, holding her tight, dropping feather light kisses into her hair, whispering words of comfort into her ear. Trying his best not think back to that time, the time he can’t go back to. The time he thought would never rear its head ever again. Now, he can feel it, tightening his chest and clawing it’s way up his throat. Choking the life out of him. “I know, Abby, I know, It’s okay, I’m okay….. _we’re okay.”_


	2. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little do they know, two phones ringing unto silence, unheard and gladly so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok Ok OK! I know I said this was a superhero AU, but EVERY good superhero has a backstory, so before you secretly yell at me in your mind (I know you do) just let the backs story play through. I PROMISE it picks up soon just trust me.

No alarm clock, no backpack, no locker,  _ no school. _ 18 years of waiting for this one moment, the first day of living. They day you don’t have to set foot in a primary school  _ ever  _ again. _ And damn was it off to a pretty great start. _

 

Marcus has no idea how it happened, why it happened, or what  _ even _ happened. But the fact they're both still fully clothed is a sign, a good or bad one he can’t tell. Because his best friend is currently draped over his chest, one leg intertwined with his. She’s so small, barely a weight on his chest. Her body seems to fit to every curve of his, like the last piece in a crazy puzzle, it’s nice,  _ really nice. _ Her eyelids begin to flutter and his whole body freezes, not realizing he’d been rubbing circles on her lower back. “Mf-Morning,” she murmurs, placing a languid kiss to his lips. Marcus tenses all over, each muscle rippling under Abby’s body. She jumps back, sitting up in his lap, a hand clasping over her mouth. “ _ Shit,  _ I’m not dreaming am I?” She gasps again, clasping a second hand over her mouth. “ _ Shit,  _ I said that out loud!” While Abby’s mind is a cacophony of screaming and a few sirens, Marcus’ mind is silent. In the fact he has currently lost the ability to think of anything other than;

 

_ She kissed me _

 

_ She kissed me _

 

_ She  _ dreamed  _ about kissing me _

 

_ I want her to kiss me again _

 

_ Really bad _

 

Fearing the worst, Abby begins to extract herself from the tangle of limbs, only to freeze when Marcus pouts,  _ actually pouts. _ Quivering lip and puppy dog eyes, the whole shebang She moves further away, sliding back to her side of the bed. It’s as if his brain kicks in all at once, he turns to face her. The second surprise of the morning happens when he slides a hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His gaze locking onto hers. He does something then, something he’d wanted to do for an  _ achingly _ long time. He kisses his best friend, long and sweet and slow, filled with all the compassion and care he could possibly convey. Marcus pulls away, brimming, a boyish grin consuming his face, Abby’s a mirror image. “You dreamed about this?” 

 

“Once or twice,” She says with a noncommittal shrug and a very near dangerous smile. “Question is, are you going to sit here and mock me,” her voice changes, dropping lower, making his blood rush south. “ _ Or are you going to make my dream come true _ ?” He can only look dumbfounded as her hands tangle in his hair, crashing her lips down on his in a biting kiss, rolling her body back on top of his. Gone is the tenderness of a first kiss, replaced with all the raw pent-up passion of a  _ first time. _ A silent agreement is made to go no further though _,_ it isn't good to rush things too fast.

 

He’s kissing her neck now, listening to each little gasp and sound she makes. Learning her, feeling,  _ tasting. _ He finds she tastes sweet, like a summers breeze. It’s calming, the way she smells, the way she feels, just  _ her _ . Having something you didn’t know you wanted is always a pleasant feeling, but this was something more. It felt right, something as simple as the earth being round, the sky being blue, and water being wet, it was just  _ right. _ She was oxygen after years of drowning, she was also really  _ ticklish _ . A tidbit he found after giving in and letting his hands roam her body. Worshipping every perfect detail he found.

 

They don’t know it, but as they learn each other, lives are being destroyed. The city is in silent chaos, and two phones calling out to deaf ears, bearing a devastating message ring unto silence. A mother dies alone, while her son is the happiest he’s ever been. Two phones attempting to contact the only loved ones of a mother on her deathbed, forgotten in a pile of clothes, next to a stack of books, ringing to no one. On the day when your worst nightmare arrives dressed like your happiest dream,  _ and you can’t tell the difference. _

 

* * *

 

 

The second wake up is much better than the first one, it's essentially the same as the first, just no fear or trepidation. And Abby is granted the privilege of kissing Marcus into wakefulness, transferring a giddy smile to his lips. “Mf-Morning,” he mumbles, blindly sitting up to kiss her but is stopped with a finger to his lips. “Not so fast, if you do that, we’re never getting out of bed.” Looping his arms around her back and snuggling into her, Marcus sighs, with no intention of ever leaving his bed. “Marcus come on, let go, we need to get up.” Smirking when she tries to wriggle out of his arms, then pulling her even tighter to his chest. “ _ Marcus,”  _ she whines, in the most adorably tiny voice. In the silence that follows, the sound of sirens intensifies, now undeniable. “Now we  _ have _ to get up….make sure the city isn’t falling apart.” It’s a joke she intensely regrets later, but for now, they laugh, because it doesn’t matter yet. “One more kiss?” He states, receiving  a very quick peck on the lips, any more would be a setback. 

 

Abby reaches for the mugs, Marcus always forgets and puts them on the top shelf, just a few inches out of her reach. “Ahem,” She says, crossing her arms with mock agitation, barely suppressing a smirk. Normally, he would just pluck the cups off the shelf, passing them down to her. Now his strong hands settle on her waist, lifting her now giggling form until her hands clasp around the mugs in question. “Thanks, babe.” He likes that, it’s cheesy and romantic, but he likes it, likes the way it sounds. The way the word so effortlessly rolls off her tongue like she’s said it a million times. Setting her back down with another stolen kiss, Marcus moves to turn on the tv. Intending to check on the weather, wanting to plan a day out. 

 

The sound of glass breaking shatters the joyous bubble Abby had put herself in, cooking breakfast and humming an old tune. Marcus is sitting with his head tucked between his knees, surrounded by shards of glass. Glass from the television he spent his entire freshman year working to buy. The screen shattered beyond repair, the now cracked remote lay a few feet away. She tries to reach out to him, lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, only to recoil when he jumps up. Striding towards the door, it’s a small apartment, his journey doesn’t take more than a few steps. His face is stained with tears, his muscles visibly twitching. “Marcus,” She tries, but it seems like he can’t hear her. The only words he said to her before disappearing were, “They killed my mom.” 

 

The door slams shut and that’s the last she sees him until the wee hours of the morning. She bides her time first by picking up the tiny shards of glass littered around the room. Then picking apart Marcus’ words. She had most of it, there wasn’t much to determine, Vera was gone. She should be sad, she should be  _ heartbroken  _ really, but there wasn’t time.  _ The dead are gone, the living are hungry,  _ she reminds herself. There is no time to cry, no time to mourn, too much work to be done. Vera is gone,  _ but who are  _ they? It’s a question that sends her into a frantic pacing, back and forth, back and forth, up and down, until she’s physically sick from the motions. Collapsing onto the couch, her body may have stopped, but her mind is still racing. Back and forth between speculation and reality, a splitting pain between her temples blocking the paths. 

 

She’s asleep when he returns, sweaty and cut up. The sight of her sleeping forming, curled up on the couch, wearing…..  _one of his shirts?_ Brings a much-needed smile to his face.  A deep ache has settled in his bones, along with the scent of blood and self-loathing.  _ Shower,  _ his mind says and his body does. 

 

The cold tile and the scalding water are a nice distraction, not feeling pain guilt or anything else for even for a short time. He watches the dirt, the blood wash off his body, disappearing down the dingy metal drain. _ Clarity,  _ he thinks,  _ the water is clarity. _ A knock at the door and a small hoarse sounding “ _ Marcus?” _ chase his thoughts away. Throwing on a pair of flannel pants he opens the door, revealing Abby. With red-rimmed puffy eyes, tousled hair, and a distraught looking expression.

 

She takes him in, the exhaustion he seems to radiate, the smattering of cuts bruises and gashes, all _new,_  and it takes her back. Takes her back to the dark stain in their history, the time they tried to cover up with happy memories and half-truths. The time she almost lost him. But you can’t change the past. “Abby… I… I” He trails off, not knowing what to say, her look says it all. Hurt, betrayal,  _ fear.  _ “Marcus, you promised…. you  _ swore  _ it. Swore we wouldn’t be back to  _ this,”  _ He can’t see her anymore, can’t see how devastated she is, tears have clouded his vision too much, but he can  _ hear _ it. He hates doing this to her, to an outside observer, to someone who doesn't know the _real_  them, it may seem like everything, but the truth be told, the past is everything. He can’t move to wipe away tears either, his body is frozen in place. “ _ Swore _ that you’d ask for help if you won’t ask for it….. I can’t do this again.” He grabbed her hand then, the sudden contact causing her to gasp. He placed it over his heart, she could feel it beating. Could feel the rise and fall of his chest, there was blood pumping through his veins and oxygen in his lungs.  _ He was still there, _ that’s what he was telling her,  _ I’m still here. _ She moves her hand to his cheek, running her thumb over the slight stubble, bringing his forehead to hers. “Abby I…. no matter what, we’re in this together, okay?” It’s the only confirmation she needs, tilting her head up their lips meet. The fire that burned earlier is gone, they’re much too emotionally drained for anything further. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and if she notices that new set of scrapes and bruises adorning his face and chest when their eyes lock, she doesn’t say anything. She just tucks her head into the crook of his neck and holds him close. The sun is peeking over the skyline when her breathing evens out, forcing Marcus to carry her sleeping form into bed. Not that he would complain if you ever asked him about it, she is slightly heavier when sleeping though. He doesn’t sleep though, doesn’t even try to. The wounds in his mind are still too raw, still too unforgiving. He has to live with the things he’s done, and hope to god they were worth it. 


	3. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a little digging, a dash of sheer dumb luck, and maybe the hands of fate to make progress. (A fist fight and a smart-mouthed teenager might help too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The beginning of the heroic "saga" (I think that word fits) the action is starting to build, a plot is developing ( I hope it is at least). From here on out, I solemnly swear to do my absolute best to include a good mixture of angst, action, fluff, (I can't promise smut, but I have connections,) and some other stuff too, because everyone loves stuff.

 

He wakes with the sun, or more specifically the throbbing pains littering his body. Not wanting to receive his fourth lecture of the week on his reckless behaviors, ultimately resulting in bodily harm. Marcus slips silently out of bed, careful not to disturb the still sleeping Abby. Throwing on his favorite gray t-shirt, Marcus makes the four-floor journey to retrieve the daily mail. It’s mostly junk, useless advertisements, and too-good-to-be-true vacation package, along with two days worth of newspapers. One envelope does catch his eye, it’s addressed to Abby so he can’t read it, but it seems to be from  _ AreoCorp. _ A high profile research and development company nestled in the heart of the city, owned by none other than Charles Griffin,  _ Jake’s father. _ Figuring if it was anything important she’d tell him about it, he doesn’t think any further of it, leaving it on the counter next to her section of the paper. Taking his section and settling down with his glass of juice and bagel, Marcus begins to read the headline.

  
  


_ Polis City News _

 

_ An alarming influx of minor crime all over the city has law enforcement baffled. Charges such as petty theft, breaking and entering, and assault is on the rise. Authorities encourage citizens to be aware of those around them and to report any suspicious activity. So far an explanation has not been formulated. _

 

_ See page 5 for more details. _

 

Something about the story peaks his interest. Despite having lived here his entire life, and growing quite used to living amidst hidden criminals, he can’t shake the nagging feeling. Something in his mind is telling them this is  _ more _ than just rowdy teenagers making poor life decisions. The rest of his brain tells him he’s just being paranoid, but that still doesn’t shake the feeling.  _ Stress,  _ he thinks,  _ I’m just stressed. _ Changing into his workout shorts, he pulls up a map of central park, plotting a course for his run. Before leaving, Marcus sticks a note to the fridge, letting Abby know where he will be. Not wanting to alarm her when she wakes up to an empty apartment.

 

Backstreets and agility paths are his best bet, not really in the mood to get hit by the morning rush. It’s not the safest route, but Marcus is decently confident in his ability to defend himself. Unintentionally, he zones out, letting his feet carry him wherever they please. 

 

He’s so distracted he almost trips over it,  _ not it  _ who. A figure is lying splayed out in the middle of the alley. On closer inspection, he can see it’s a guy, around his age, but that’s not what shocks him. His skin is deathly pale like there wasn’t an ounce of blood left, but his veins were grossly prominent. Strange black streaks all over his neck. A badge clipped around the guy’s neck draws Marcus’ attention next. 

 

_ An AeroCorp visitor's badge. _

 

He swipes it, knowing full and well he’s tampering with a crime scene. Out of respect, he calls the police. _ Not that could do anything, they can’t even handle street thugs.  _

 

Marcus answers the officer's questions in a monotone withdrawn manner, the badge burning a hole in his jacket pocket. It's almost laughable how he went out intending to clear his head but ended up coming home with more questions than he started with.  He’s got plenty of dots, what he needs is a connection, for some of those dots to fall into place.  _ He needs to read that letter. _

 

The journey home passes noticeably faster, fueled by a new desire, not just a need to escape. Halfway home, the feeling returns, the strange thing that tells him he’s close.  _ Close to an answer?  _ Maybe.  _ Close to a new lead?  _ Could be. He just needs to reach a little higher and he’s there,  _ wherever that is. _

 

* * *

 

On further examination, the badge doesn’t provide much other than a place to start.He took a few classes on forensics and crime solving, in truth  _ only for a GPA boost,  _ but he took them. Giving himself a pat on the back, Marcus pulls up the AC news page, scrolling through it for  _ something, _ anything really. Out of almost 10 pages of articles and updates, only one thing catches his eye. 

 

_ Chief Engineer fired in Data Scandal.  _

_ Jacapo Sinclair was relieved from command Saturday after multiple attempts to access and distribute classified data. It is believed he was allied with a rival company looking to knock AC out of the game. The attempted leaks were the crown on a long list of transgressions beginning in June of last year. (The suspected time of the data contracts drafting.) Thanks to added security measures and increased encryption no data was lost.  _

 

A little more digging and Marcus is only creating more questions.  _ Why, _ would such a high ranking employee do something so reckless? Would a rival company really make a deal with the  _ Chief _ engineer, someone with eyes on them at all times?  _ Who takes almost 13 months to steal computer files?  _ It leaves a pounding in his head and gray cloud in his spirit. A couple of clicks and one courageous press of the call button send him on a path he hopes gets him answers. If anyone knows anything, Sinclair may be the only one who would tell him.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s exhilarating in every aspect. The chase, high-speed high intensity. The fight, on the knife’s edge, empowering and adrenaline-crazed. More often than not, the apprehension, calling the cops from the criminals phone and walking away wearing a satisfied smile, hidden by his mask, but there. 

 

The only downside? Having to lie to Abby each and every night, sometimes he has trouble saying the words. “Going to the gym,” or “Boxing lessons tonight.” Marcus hopes she’d understand, hopes she’d realize he’s just trying help people,  _ the good people.  _ And find out what the hell Jake Griffin is up to  _ because he’s obviously behind this right? _ If not Jake, then AC as a whole. The 4 more bodies he’s found, all wearing a visitor's badge, have to mean something. All with the same grotesque appearance. The police reports concluded a heroin overdose, a load of bullshit if you ask Marcus.  _ You don’t inject heroin into your neck _ , a tidbit he learned on one of his first  _ outings,  _ as he’d taken to call them. 

 

The part of him that wasn’t exhilarated by running around entangling himself in possibly deadly fist fights, felt ridiculous. Like something straight out of a crappy superhero movie,  _ minus the tights. He  _ **_refused_ ** _ to wear tights. _ Black canvas pants, a plain black hoodie and a black bandana covering his mouth and nose were as dressed up as he was going to get. And even that still makes him look like a fool. 

 

Tonight is different, most of the time he runs around for 3 or 4 hours, taking down 1 or 2 solo crooks. Now he’s squaring off with 3 crazed thugs  _ while _ trying to defend the kid they wanted to rob. “You sure you wanna do this cowboy?” The tallest guy rumbles, cracking his knuckles. Before his buddies can finish high-fiving each other, their smart-mouthed leader is on the ground, sporting a wide gash on his cheek and a lack of consciousness. Both guys lunge for him at once, he manages to dodge one but throws himself into the path of the other. Unfortunately, luck is not on Marcus’ side. Having your face bashed in by a lowly miscreant was not on his agenda. Each new hit shoves him further and further away from consciousness, now barely able to hold his arms up in a feeble attempt to shield his face. He can taste blood and it feels like he could hear color if he really tried, he wasn’t worried about how much this was going to hurt of how many bones might be broken. He was worried about what Abby was going to say,  _ there’s no hiding this one, _ his mind tells him. Then the weight disappears, and the punches stop. 

As if by some Miracle his bandana is still in place.  _ Note to self, get a better mask. _ The last thing he needs is getting his cover blown. He can vaguely see a hand outstretched to him, requiring a few attempts to grasp it and haul himself up. “That was stupid,” a female voice states, one he identifies as the girl he saved,  _ well tried to. _ “You know most people say ‘thank you’ when someone takes a beating for you.” 

 

“Doesn’t make it any less stupid, but for your sake  _ thank you.”  _ Even with his head swimming, Marcus can pick out the sound of feet slapping on pavement. “ _ Raven! Are are you alright, what happened?” _  An older male and the girl named Raven crash into a tight embrace. Not wanting to intrude on the very happy reunion, Marcus busies himself tieing up the 3 stooges. Then placing a very rehearsed call to the police, trying on a new fake accent.

 

“We should run,” Marcus suggest, jogging up to rejoin the others. “ _ What?” _ The father-daughter pair states. “The cops will be here any second and unless you want a court case, I suggest you run.” Marcus takes off, the sound of sirens already peaking his keen ears. Surprisingly, when he reaches a safe distance he’s not alone, Raven and the other guy are right behind him. Not wanting to stick around, Marcus gives a hasty farewell. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’ve got places to be, try not to get jumped again, kid.” A hand on his arm halts his escape, Raven’s father has an iron grip on his bicep. “Hey, you’re injured, at least let me patch you up.” 

 

“Oh, no…. No, it’s okay, I really need to go.” The man’s grip tightens, and Marcus prepares to fight his way out. “Wait a second… I recognize your voice…. You’re…. You’re that kid who asked me all those questions about my old job.”  _ Shit, _ Marcus mentally slaps himself for not realizing who he’d been with the entire time. He was standing face to face with Jacapo Sinclair and he’d been too stupid to see it. “Mhmm, I don’t see it, Cowboy seems to act first question later.” Raven shrugs, fiddling with something in her backpack.  _ Why do people think I’m a Cowboy, that doesn’t make any sense?  _ “No no, trust me, it's him. You said your name was M something…. Mar-”

 

“ _OK OK!,"_   _I wear a mask for a reason,_  "let’s not finish that sentence _.”_ Thankfully, Sinclair doesn’t continue his thought, only passing him a folded slip of paper. “Call that number when no one can hear you.”

 

* * *

 

 

He stands in the cramped bathroom, prodding his throbbing nose, praising a higher power it isn’t broken. The clock reads 3:37 AM. Upon removing the now dried blood from his face, he’s pleasantly surprised by the lack of substantial marks. A shallow scrape to his cheek and forehead, but it’s mostly just bruised. A dusting of laughable small scrapes. It's a much welcome reprieve, not having to craft fool-proof lies first thing in the morning.

 

Slipping into bed and feeling Abby seek him out like she knows where he is even when sleeping. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, Marcus falls into a deep slumber. Satiated by the night’s successes. 

 

Abby’s gotten used to waking up to him bruised and battered. If organized fighting keeps him out of trouble, it’s worth the small shocks every morning.  It only takes a few kisses to wake him up, a bright smile decorating his face. “Well good morning to you as well,” he slurs, still in the half-lucid state of just waking up. She can feel his stomach rumble, angrily calling him out on his neglect. “When was the last time you ate?” His shameful silence is a clear answer. “Get dressed, we're going out for breakfast.” 

 

By the time the waiter arrives to take their orders, Marcus’ stomach his waging war on itself. When  _ was _ the last time he ate? He’s halfway through his third cup of coffee when he notices the look Abby’s giving him. “What?” 

 

“Cool it on the caffeine, you're already going to be shaking like a leaf later.” She gives a light chuckle, but Marcus can tell her heart’s not in it. “That’s not it, what’s on your mind?” Frowning at his ability to read her, Abby starts to piece together how and what to tell him. “You know that weird letter I got from AC?”  _ Yes, the one I’ve been itching to read since the moment I touched it.  _ “Sounds familiar.” 

 

“Well, it was an invitation, to an end of the quarter gala. _ ” _ Not in the least what he was expecting, not a terrible surprise though. “Jake invited me.”  _ Well, that makes sense.  _

 

Marcus’ reaction is puzzling, he looks almost disappointed. Or is it just contemplation, it’s hard to tell. “Are you gonna go?” 

 

“Only if you're coming with me, I’m not facing a bunch of corporate snobs that I don’t even know by myself.” The smile he cracks his a solid assurance. Their food arrives and a comfortable silence ensues. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And it feels like he could hear color if he really tried" ?!??! what the hell is wrong with me? The sad thing is I wasn't high when I wrote this so I have no excuses.


	4. Climb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn engineers! 
> 
> “A storage locker, a fucking storage locker?!”
> 
> “Stop whining, or I make it tighter.” 
> 
> “Make me.” 
> 
> Highly intent on getting better use of that wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha trolls

Marcus had been fidgeting with that piece of paper the entire climb. The fact there were no stairs leading up to the roof was a pro and a con. Pro, he wasn’t going to have any unwanted visitors. Con, it was a pretty intense free climb. His biceps and abdomen are screaming when he reaches the top, throwing his head back and breathing in greedily.  _ I  _ _really_ _ need to get better at that,  _ he muses.

 

Marcus brings the phone up to his ear, impatiently tapping his foot on the gravel. The continues to ring, long past the normal time. Shock turns to anger as Marcus realizes he’d been chasing a dead lead the entire time. He shoves the device forcefully into his pocket, stalking off to make his descent. With each new step, his leg continues vibrating with increasing intensity. 

 

His screen is locked onto a strange app, one he’s never seen before. It looks like Google maps, but there are no options. Just a map of the city and a red line going from his position to somewhere  _ 13 and a half miles  _ away. He can’t exit it or shut down his phone, it’s like someone is controlling it remotely. He takes a step further, another vibration, then a step back, no vibration.  _ Damn engineers! _ It’s a clever system. By the 7th or 8th ring, most people would hang up. Those who knew what they were doing and not just a wrong number would stick until the end, then follow the map when they figured it out.  _ Something like that at least. _

 

The trip takes  _ for-ever. _ He’s never covered that long of a distance in one go, the vague directions didn’t help either. Running into dead ends, rerouting around impassable structures, it's really  _ really  _ annoying. 

 

However, Marcus begins to rethink his decision, the destination is not at all what he expected. “A storage locker, a fucking  _ storage locker?”  _ Upon stepping closer, Marcus’ phone regains control of itself, revealing an alarming number of messages, all from Abby. He gives the same excuse, with an added,  _ left my phone on silent, sorry.  _

“You got a problem with my lab cowboy?” He almost jumps out of his skin, the sudden voice startling him more than it should. “Why the hell does everyone call me cowboy,  _ I’m not even from the south!” _ Raven is snickering behind him, Sinclair a few feet behind her. Ignoring the mumbling from both of them, Sinclair is all business getting straight to the point. “You ready for this?”, he asks  Marcus shakes his head in question, trying his best not to trip as Raven shoves him down stairs the weren’t there a second ago. 

 

The trio ends up in a pristine lab, white tables, microscopes, large screens and a soft machine hum reverberating around the room. “What is this place?” 

 

“Home sweet home,” Raven sighs, wrapping a tape measure around his waist, then his bicep. “Raven put it down.” The girl glares at Sinclair, a look of disbelief. “ _ Oh come on!  _ You know I’ve wanted to do this  _ since  birth!” _ Marcus takes a better look around, different fabrics and materials are all scattered over one of the workstations. “What exactly did you bring me here for?” Raven shares another look, this time a very suggestive smile pointed at Sinclair. Who can only raise his arms in defeat, grabbing what looked like a pane of glass from the nearest lab table. “So you  _ don’t _ like being called cowboy?”  _ Why the hell does she keep bringing that up?  _ “No I don’t,” Marcus answers flatly, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling. “Then you’re gonna have to stop looking like one.” 

 

The first thing he was thrown into was a skin tight gray, well he didn’t know the word for it. Essentially it was full body spandex that fit better than a glove. Over the course of what he later found out was 3 hours, various pieces of metal and paneling were strapped and fitted to his body, making him as Raven described  _ indestructible. _  “It’s tight, like  _ really  _ tight.” Especially so in places, it shouldn’t be. “Stop whining, or I make it tighter.” His mouth shuts with an audible snap, his mind saying  _ undermined by an 8th grader, great.  _ “Be considerate Reyes,” Sinclair warns from his spot on the couch. Marcus can’t see himself but is 90 percent certain he looks like a damn fool. He’d come for information, not to play dress up. “ _ Done _ ,” Raven announces admiring her work fondly. 

 

It’s nowhere near as bad as Marcus expected, he actually  _ likes  _ it. Gunmetal gray and black, practical and breathable. He feels…..  _ Powerful,  _ like he could take on the world. “Pay up, told you he’d like it.” A wad of cash is shoved into Raven’s hand, two metal sticks in his. “What are these?” Sinclair takes one of them moving around to his back. “Watch this.” He holds it up, about 7 inches from his back, then let’s go.

 

Except, instead of hearing it crash to the floor, he’s shoved forward by it, the object now stuck to his back. “This is gonna be fun isn’t it?” He’s staring at his hands and suit again, like he’s hallucinating like it isn’t his body. “Fun, yes, definitely.” Raven laughs, and it’s not long before both men follow suit.

  
  


_“Marcus_ , what are we doing out here?” This woman was impossible to convince. Marcus had never been able to surprise her before, _ever._ With a little research into the building's schematics, Marcus was able to find a much easier path onto the roof. Where the one surprise Abby Walters would never see coming lie in wait. Her hand is clasped tightly in his as they wind around machinery to the rooftop entrance. She yanks back on his hand, stopping him dead. “ _Marcus Kane,_ tell me where you’re taking me right now” Her voice isn’t nearly as stern as she intended. Marcus sees the opportunity and takes it. “ _Make me.”_ He’s backed against the wall with a thud, almost knocking the air from his chest. Her breath is hot against his neck, whispering he thought would never come out of her mouth. “ _Abby……”_ He’s breathless, barely audible, it makes her chuckle how much she can affect him with just a few _special_  words. His eyes fall shut when she rolls her hips, moaning loudly. “You going to tell me now?” Marcus shakes his head, trapping her wandering hands in his, “I’m gonna show you.” Begrudgingly, Abby lets him drag her the rest of the way, only for her jaw to go slack when faced with her surprise. Blankets and pillows have been laid out, softening the gravel rooftop. Candles have been scattered around, bathing the area in a warm glow. A cooler of food and drinks lay off to the side. “Surprise,” Marcus whispers, wrapping her up from behind. Abby almost squeals from excitement. The biggest surprise at all, everything is totally silent, no sirens, no sound of cars, it’s peaceful. “You remembered?” Of course, he remembered, he remembers it all;

  
  


_ Freshman Year,  The first month in the apartment. _

 

Marcus was sitting on the counter, patiently waiting for  _ something. _ Abby was sitting upside down the couch, humming excitedly to the latest radio sensation. A  _ ‘Hey, Marcus,’  _ grabs his attention, dragging his up to hers, well  _ down,  _ but height difference. “Yeah, Abby?” Her feet continue swinging up and down, biting her lip like she forgot her words. “You know the worst part about living in the city?”  _ Drugs, crime, murder, traffic, the smell?  _ “No…. what is it?” Sighing loudly Abby jumps up, walking over and opening the window, letting in the city’s customary symphony. “The noise, you can’t ever find a quiet place to I don’t know read a book, have a snack, look at the stars….. I wonder, what life would be like if we didn’t have cities. If it was just humanity and the Earth, not primitive but not modern.” Abby had always been a dreamer, Marcus a realist, but sometimes when Abby was going on about her latest fantasy. Marcus would be sucked into that perfect world with, relaxing in the hope and happiness.

  
  


“How could I forget? You were always so hopeful, I knew someday I wanted to make those dreams come true.” Marcus can feel the tears collecting on his shirt when she turns around in his embrace. “So what d'ya say, you wanna stare at the stars?”  This time it’s her who drags him to the blankets tugging him down to snuggle into his side. 

 

Wine and well-prepared food is consumed leisurely, punctuated by giggles and wistful reminiscing. Half the bottle is gone before the talking stops and the _fun_ begins. Abby is a giggling mess, covering his jaw in sloppy open mouthed kisses. Her hands wander under his shirt intending to map his skin. The tanned epidermis of his abdomen isn’t what she feels, she feels the rough fabric of his suit. _The suit she isn’t supposed to know about._ Marcus lets her tug his shirt off, knowing there’s no covering this one up. A deep frown forms on her face as her hand runs down the center of his chest. “What is…. Wait…. It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the vigilante, aren’t you?” He nods shamefully, this was supposed to be their happy night, now ruined by careless mistakes. “Tell me this isn’t for revenge… tell me that you’ve uncovered some elaborate evil plan you’re trying to thwart so you can save the city from becoming corrupt and overrun with death and murder? Because right now, all I see is you hurting yourself and me ending up alone.” The casualness to her tone, brought on by the alcohol, shows how hurt she is. Abby is an active person, she doesn’t lay idle if something is too much for her, it gets compartmentalized. Marcus realizes that’s what she’s doing, what he’s caused her. “Jake’s up to something Abby, I know it, I’ve researched it…. Abby people are dying, _kids_ are dying. I can help them, for her, I can help them.” He gets and inquisitive look as she takes another sip, sighing and reclining back on her hands. “So, you think Jake is trying to overrun the city, you must be drunker than I am.” Abby sets her glass down, lying back with hands under her head, a blank expression on her features. “I never meant to hurt you, that day I went out to run, I found this kid, not even 16 he was dead. He was wearing an AreoCorp badge, I’ve found at least 15 more like him. All wearing the same badge, they all have the same markings. They’re up to something, I have to stop it.” She looks at him, sees the tears in his eyes, her’s drop to the suit. It looks extensive, something he definitely didn’t put together himself. “How strong is it?” Marcus pulls a silver stick from his back, extending it to. “I’m pretty sure there’d only be minor consequence if you beat me with this.” Marcus gives the half smirk and Abby finally cracks a smile. Her hands run over the material on his shoulders, getting used to the feel of it under her fingers. “You won’t _always_ wear this under your clothes, right,” Abby asks with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive head tilt. The air around them thickens, eyes darken, and their breathing quickens. “I can take it off if you’d like,” he really wants to take it off. Suddenly even tighter than it already was. Abby makes gasps, placing a theatric hand over her heart. “And deny me the right, how ungentlemanly of you Marcus Kane.” Marcus scoops her up, carrying her towards the exit. Highly intent on getting better use of that wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventual non-vague smut later I PROMISE, but you gotta wait for it because I'm a torturous human being.


	5. Fates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hero, The Victim, and The Savior. 
> 
> The Villain?

She watches how he rubs the heels of his hands on his eyes, then drags them down his face, trying to rub away the exhaustion. The simple fact was that Vera Kane was gone, and her only son now had to tie up her legacy. Friends and distant family had to be called, funeral costs and specifics needed to be finalized, and a slew of other dreadful things that tail a loss. Silence fell on their lips, but neither had silence of mind, Abby especially. Conflictions and questions flitting around like leaves in a storm.

 

Vera, like her son, hadn’t had the ideal life, but she took it in stride. Smiling always, ever caring. She was a light…. but all lights go out eventually, some much too soon. Abby loved Vera, as did everyone who met her, she was so much like her son, they had nearly the same qualities, his just a little harder to see.

 

_ She loved them both. _ She’d loved Vera instantly, bonding tightly together on many levels. With her, it was simple, as it always, she knew exactly what she felt and how it had gotten that way.

 

Marcus was  _ different. _ She didn’t know what started that warm fuzzy feeling her chest when he smiled. Or the butterflies when his hand grazed her skin. Was it one thing?  _ Two? _ Fate? Destiny?  _ What was it? _

 

_ Was it the chase she loved?  _ The moment you thought you had him figured out, he changed, leaving you in the dust. A maze without a map, priceless treasures kept at the core. A lock with only one key, begging to be found. _ No, not that. _

 

_ Was it his strength? _ The weight he’d bore was immense, and he held it good and long. He was still strong in her eyes, even after. It takes a truly strong person to break like that and still come out swinging on the other side. Not many people can do those things and not succumb.  _ Maybe….. Maybe. _

 

_ Was it his looks? _ This one almost made her laugh. That didn’t mean Marcus wasn’t handsome. Dark unruly hair, always falling out of place and impossibly soft. Deep eyes, so expressive and penetrating. Toned body and sun-kissed skin, from months of running, biking, weight lifting, anything that could capture his full attention and silence his mind. Yes, Marcus was attractive,  _ but that still wasn’t why. _

 

Fate was too comical, so that was out too. She takes another glance at him, his head is bowed and hands clasped behind his neck. Breathing heavily, almost sighing. He tried vainly to tuck that one rebellious curl back into place, then just giving up and resting his head fully on the counter. Then…. It just happens. She just..... gets it. 

 

_ She’s in love with him. _ It’s not a declaration,  _ it’s an answer. _ It’s not his looks, his strengths, or anyone of his characteristics.  _ It’s him, _ all of him, every quirk, every scar, every broken memory. She’s in love with  _ him,  _ and that’s the beauty of it. That’s why they fit together so well, edge to jagged edge.  _ Because no one is perfect. _ Life is a puzzle, things look like they could fit, but not always. Something looks out of place but is right at home, and when you can see the big picture, you have lived. And right now, that picture has never been clearer. 

 

* * *

 

It was going to be a rough day, the fates had bestowed no graces. In the morning, the dark, dreary, and rainy city morning, was the service. One of the last tangible connections Marcus had to his mother, would be lowered into the ground, and buried forever. But that was later, right now, it was just them. Still in their sleep clothes, trying to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. Because once Marcus donned his suit and Abby her dress, those dark clouds wouldn’t only be in the sky. 

 

He’s staring at the tree, it’s permanent home now the sunniest spot in the apartment. _'May we meet again,'_  he whispers. The waxy leaves feel cool between his fingers, the simple yet elegant gray pot with an even simpler expression, the same one it had always been. _ Eden: a place of pristine or abundant natural beauty.  _

 

Abby steps and wraps her arms tightly around his waist, dropping a gentle kiss on the side of his neck. She’s been doing that a lot lately, hugging him, especially when it gets quiet. Silence has never been good for him, so she feels it. By humming while she cooks, playing the radio while she reads, and rarely letting a conversation drop. Constantly stimulating, distracting,  _ avoiding. _

 

Not today though, silence was necessary, unavoidable,  _ crushing. _ The happy little tunes wouldn’t come, conversation was forced. Senses were dulled, colors bleak, sounds dull, tastes bland, smells dark, _ but touch was the same. _ He could still feel the warmth in her arms, the steadiness of it. 

 

His muscles relax under her touch, shoulders sagging, his head dropping to her shoulder. Breathing in deeply as he clutches to her. He seems to melt into the soft caress of her hand drawing circles on his back. “We have to get ready.”  _ I’m scared. I don’t want to do this. _ “I know.”  _ I know. _

 

The service is a small one, but it’s for the better. The less people, the less time Marcus has to spend here. His life is dangerous enough as is,  _ she’s still not over the superhero thing.  _ He doesn’t need the lame implications of a large funeral, the _ I’m sorry for your loss’. _ The pitiful comments and quotes. A mother had been stolen from her child and there is nothing to  _ celebrate  _ in that. 

 

One or two lines of one or two speeches actually make it to her ears, she’s not trying to be disrespectful, she’s just distant. This whole thing is just awful, and when they do finally make their escape, it feels like she can breathe again for the first time in hours.

 

Abby dives into a hot shower as quick as she can. Needing to remove the funeral scent from her body. She doesn’t stay in long, no matter how much her body craves it. Her mind is filled with an unpleasant haze, a good nap snuggled up to Marcus sounds heavenly.

 

He’s passed out, face down on the bed, still wearing his shoes. For a moment, his painful position, and the medicine bottle on the nightstand her thoughts flicker to the worst. It would make sense, resorting to old comforts.  _ That was then, and this is now.  _

And she almost kicks herself when his peaceful snoring drifts to her ears. Abby has an enormous amount of faith in him, he’s not the problem. _ It’s her….. _ or more her fear. Seeing him like that…..  _ Once was enough _ . She still had the dreams, Marcus was a deep sleeper, he couldn’t hear or feel when she woke up whimpering, covered in cold sweat. 

 

He moans, protesting something his conscience is throwing at him. Abby gently wakes him, helping sit him up. Taking the jacket from his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. She slips him into his most comfortable pajamas. Marcus is perfectly capable of dressing himself, Abby knows that, but the lost look in his eyes. He’s close to breaking and that can’t happen. If the fact that all it takes to get him to lie back is a gentle nudge, he’s closer than she thought. She sits, back to the headboard, waiting, watching, but he doesn’t move. Just stares up at the ceiling blankly. “Marcus….. Marcus come here.” He curls into her side, laying his head on her stomach, it’s quiet again, only their breathing. Then she hears it, the sharp intake of breath, the first of strangled cries. His grip around her waist tightens. Her hands run through his hair and over his back, caressing and comforting, until the pitiful whimpers and salty droplets cease to exist. He needs this moment, they both need this moment. The day isn’t nearly done, in a few hours Marcus will have to put the suit back on, Abby her other dress, and go to a gala neither of them want to. For now, they have  _ this. _ Just the two of them, Marcus wrapped tightly around Abby, sleeping soundly in the warmth of her arms. Abby with hope for a brighter tomorrow, sleeping as well.

 

* * *

 

 

The shrill sound of the alarm Abby had set wakes them both. “Please tell me we slept through the party, _ please,”  _ Marcus grumbles. Abby laughs, giving him a sloppy kiss good morning. “No, but we do have 3 hours until we actually have to leave.” He opens his eyes to glare at her for waking him up so early. She laughs to cover up the surprise, the lost and distraught look has faded considerably. His normal self coming back slowly but surely. “Up and at ‘em lazy bones, I’ll help you get dressed.” He catches her by the wrist, pulling her down on top of him. Grazing the curve of her ear with his teeth. “If we get dressed that means I have to keep my hands off you.” Marcus can feel the hum of her content little sigh as she relaxes into his body. “Spoken like someone who hasn’t  _ dreamed _ of kissing me in front of Jake Griffin,  _ Polis’  richest man.”  _ She say’s it in the same condescending tone as when she’d read it before being forced to publish it. “I said I had to keep my  _ hands _ off you, nothing about my mouth.” She grabs his wrist, looking at the time on his watch, one she doesn’t remember him buying. “You have an hour, no overtime, better make it good.” A bubbly laugh escapes her when Marcus eagerly flips them over, placing open mouthed kisses down the curve of her neck.

 

The hour passes fast, blur like almost. Neither of them have any desire to get up, let alone attend a most likely dull and dreary corporate gathering, but as Abby had later found out. Pictures of the event would surely score her a hefty pay raise. “Alright, up for real this time.” 

 

“Mf-five more minutes,” he groans, turning his face into the pillows. “Nope, you said that 10 minutes ago.” Abby pulls him up by the arms, pressing his dress shirt and pants into his chest. “Go,” It’s a command and not a request.

 

Abby has just finished her hair when Marcus re-emerges. He looks quite handsome, and she tells him as much. Abby grabs the tie from his hand, looping it around his neck and fixing it into position. Thinking it safe enough, she pulls him close for one last kiss. One kiss turns into many before her hands snake under his shirt, wanting to feel his soft skin beneath her fingers. But all she finds is cold metal. The first few buttons of his shirt get undone, and when Abby pulls back the dark fabric, her lips set in a hard line. “So that’s why it took you half an hour to get dressed, were you planning on running off the whole time?” her words have a decent bite to them, the hurt registers on his face quickly. Abby at least has the decency to look shameful. One of her hands intertwines with his, the other coming to rest on the exposed piece suit, running her thumb over the smooth fabric. “It makes you feel  _ different, _ doesn’t it.” The suit isn’t merely something to keep him alive. It makes him a different person, someone who’s only purpose is help those in need. Not someone with a rickety troubled passed,  _ a hero, not a victim.  _ That’s why he really wears it. She kisses the material, then buttons the shirt back over it. “You don’t need it.”  _ You’re safe here. _ “But I get it.”  _ I’ve got you. _ “I’m sorry.”  _ I love you. _

 

Her phone lights up with a message, their cab driver is waiting downstairs. She takes Marcus by the hand, dragging him excitedly towards the door, putting a bright smile back on his face. “Party!” She hollers, jumping down the stairs, giggling the whole way down. A bubbly Marcus right behind her. It may be a sucky occasion, but that doesn’t mean they can’t  _ try  _ to enjoy it!


	6. Natwotcha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to explain why this took for fucking ever to come out, those of you who need to know, know already. 
> 
> Already apologizing for any grammar issues

Much to Marcus’ disappointment, the party isn’t actually inside the  _ AC  _ building. He would’ve liked to snoop around a little. Not that Abby would’ve let him run off to be  _ ‘stupidly heroic _ ’ as she’d put it, but it still would’ve nice to at least have the chance.

 

The actual venue wasn’t bad, he was surprised that Jake had been able to rent the place out. As rich as he was, The Dropship lounge was an upscale, space themed watering hole. Normally filled to the brim with wealthy drunks. 

 

Not that he’d ever admit it, but Marcus was genuinely excited. The atmosphere was the biggest draw, if it was a different time and he was a different him, he might’ve been in it for the drinks. They had a very large selection of beer wine and liquors, but he hadn’t had so much as a sip in nearly two years and wasn’t looking to start now. Finding a non-alcoholic drink was proving to be a quite difficult task. That’s why it took so long to make his way back to Abby, who was glaring at him over the shoulder of none other than  _ Jake Griffin.  _ “There you are, I was beginning to think you left me.” Abby stands up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips not so gently against his and taking her drink from his hand. Marcus has to suppress a chuckle watching Jake’s smile plummet. He knows  _ exactly _ what Abby’s doing, and he’s more than happy to play along. “I didn’t know you two were together,” Jake grits out, clenching his jaw even tighter when Marcus wraps an arm around Abby’s waist. “It was bound to happen eventually, I mean just look at her.” Marcus twirls her around, then pulling her flush against his chest to kiss her deeply. Jake can only stare until a stiff looking man, Marcus assumes is his corporate babysitter, whispers something, making the young CEO take his leave.

 

5 minutes later, the stage lights go up and Jake walks out microphone in hand. Showing off just how intoxicated he is with a few stumbles. “Ok so, we all know the  _ main _ reason we’re all here is for a good drink, but that’s not exactly something you put in the newspapers.  _ That _ reason is to celebrate a great partnership. My dear friend Charles would you come on up here.” A dark skinned man in a crisp blue uniform hops on stage and attempts to shake Jake’s hand only to get pulled into an awkward embrace. “For those of you who don’t know, this is Chief of Police Charles Pike. Who has been kind enough to join me here tonight to finalize a wondrous agreement.” Jake passes the metaphorical torch to Pike with a giddy smile. “Not all that long ago our city was faced with rising crime rates we now know to be the work of rival gangs Trikru and Azgeda.  Now we face a new problem, some kid that’s seen one too many movies and has too much time on his hands. Someone who calls themselves a hero just so they can run around in fancy Halloween costumes trying to do an officer’s job.” Abby can feel Marcus’ whole body tense next to hers, can see his breath catching in his throat. Pissing off the chief of police puts a lot of heat on someone. Pike is fuming as he walks off stage, shoving through his PR  team on the way. “For the first stage of this plan, I promise to put full  _ AC  _ funding into the apprehension of the  _ Natwotcha. _ ” The crowd of blue uniforms erupts into cheering and applause. Abby drags him outside, both of them choking on the heavy air of realization. “ _ Natwotcha, _ what is that… is that-”

 

“It’s you,” she chokes out, screwing her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “It’s an old language, used in gang wars.  _ Natwatcha _ it means Nightwatcher, part of an old Trikru legend.” With one deep shuddering breath, Abby regains her composure. Then the door opens and neither of them has an excuse ready. Marcus launches himself at her, attacking her neck with his lips and making an impressive show. The person clears their throat. “Ms.Walters?” Abby straightens Marcus suit, smoothing over the substantial mess she made of it. “Yes?”

 

“Mr.Griffin is requesting your presence back inside.” Marcus bites back a groan, wondering what exactly Jake had originally planned for Abby at this party. Because she definitely wasn’t here as a reporter. “We’ll be inside shortly.” 

 

Marcus must not hide his fear very well because Jake passes him a shot of some very strong smelling tequila. “Take it, you look like you need it.” Abby’s hand makes it’s way to his knee underneath the bar, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t drink.” Jake seems unphased, just passes the drink over to Abby who dumps it into someone else’s cup when no one's looking. “So,” Abby starts, the epitome of nonchalance, “How are you going to catch the  _ Natwotcha?” _

 

“Everyone has a weakness, I’ll use his against him.” Marcus scoffs silently, sharing an underwhelmed look with Abby. “And what exactly  _ is _ his weakness?” 

 

“I don’t know, kinda have to figure out who he is first.” Abby laughs, not even trying to hide it. “Won’t that be a hell of a lot harder now that they know they’re being hunted?” Jake’s eyebrows knit together, clearly, he hadn’t thought this far. “Probably, but no matter who they are, they’re still human. He’ll slip up eventually.” The change in Jake’s tone is alarming, setting them both off. Abby is trying to mask her fear, but the ripples in her wine glass won’t stop. They need to leave before one of them gives Jake the slip up he’s looking for, exposing them both. So, Abby lets her head drop to Marcus’ shoulder, feigning exhaustion. He gets the hint instantly, slipping the glass from her hand and setting it on the bar. “It’s been a rather……taxing day, we best be leaving now. Thank you for having us.” Abby leans her weight further into Marcus as he guides out, further perfecting their act.

 

If Jake had been less drunk,  _ or less dense _ , he would’ve gotten his weakness then and there. It had been displayed freely in front of him the entire night. But, alas he was too blind to see the way Marcus twitched at every mention of the  _ Natwotcha _ . Or how Abby’s head had burrowed into Marcus’ chest when Jake unveiled his plan.

 

Marcus knew they had been close,  _ too close, _ but he also had a feeling dumb luck hadn’t been their savior. No, Vera Kane had been protecting her son. Exactly as she had been since the day he was born.

 

* * *

 

“Marcus, you can’t do this anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

 

“ _ No,” _ she snaps, “No, It’s not worth it…. You don’t even have that much evidence. Is a hunch really worth your life?” Fear is fueling her anger, making her words a steel trap. Marcus takes a deep breath, throwing his dress shirt into the hamper. “They’re not trying to kill me, Abby.” She whips around, giving him a deadly glare. “Oh  _ really? _ You don’t know Pike like I do. I’ve had to trash a lot of not so pleasant leads because of the choke hold he has on this city.” Abby’s anger doesn’t seem to work on him, only strengthens his resolve, her tone softens with the next words. “He’s done things, Marcus……. things you spend life in prison for.” He slips on a pajama shirt, he’s only wearing shorts, said shirt, and a very dangerous thinking face. “That’s why I’m thinking this whole collaboration isn’t as new as they say it is.”  _ That’s it, she’s done.  _ So many awful things she wants to say bubble to the surface. “ _ Damnit, Marcus! _ Would you stop with the theories, the speculation all of it,  _ please _ . Be selfish for five damn minutes, if not for you,  _ then for me.” _ Her eyes are red-rimmed, not to mention her lip is quivering slightly. The fear radiating off her is palpable. Abby catches his stare and swiftly turns away, closing in on herself. The way she jumps slightly when Marcus embraces her stings, bit only for a second. She’s never shied away from his touch before. He whispers her name softly, making comforting noises in the back of his throat until he relaxes into him. “I’ll come back to you always….. We’re in this together remember? I have to do this though….for  _ her. _ ”

 

“H-how can you be so sure? How d-do you know you’re safe?” Her voice is trembling and weak from the weight of emotion. He’s not so sure how many times they will have this talk. How many times they  _ can _ have this talk, but this is a choice he just can’t  _ make. _ “I’ll talk to Sinclair about new gear…. maybe even that helmet you’ve been begging for.” Abby flips around in his embrace, giving him a weak glare. Her hand moves from his shoulder into his hair, thoroughly messing it up. “Hey, I like your head in one piece ok?” Marcus rolls his eyes, he’s not cocky but still has faith in his abilities at staying in one piece. Abby yawns then, tucking her head under his chin and locking arms around his waist. “I love you,” she murmured, already half asleep. Abby’s eyes have fallen shut, nearly her entire weight supported in his arms, but he can’t help it. Can’t help but kiss her, not after that. It’s slow, sweet, and dripping with emotion. A wordless sentiment reciprocated in equal fervor. “I love you,” Marcus breathes into her skin. It’s not enough though, they’re both filled with a slew of pent up emotion. Filling the room with a crackling tension, bathing them both in flames that burn brightly in kisses and caresses. It builds quickly, Abby’s hands in his hair, Marcus’ lips and teeth attacking her neck.  _ It’s not the right time,  _ his mind says, despite his body’s desire. 

 

Reluctantly, Marcus removes his mouth from her skin. “We can’t… not tonight-”

“I know.” 

 

“Don’t get me wrong… I want to it’s just-” 

 

“ _ Marcus, _ I know.” There’s a dumb look on his face like he didn’t expect that reaction. It makes her smile into his mouth while tangling her fingers in his hair. He yawns, making her push him to lie down so she can curl into his side. Her knee brushed against him accidentally, making him groan. An idea inches its way into her mind, one of the devilish variety. She does it again, smirking at the sound he makes. Marcus’ eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling. Her movements come with a purpose as she straddles him, creating as much delicious friction as she can. “What are you doing?” It’s a dumb question, he knows that, but the logical parts of his brain are slowly shutting down with each wave of sensation.  She rolls her eyes and leans down to kiss him, biting gently at his lower lip. Marcus tries to sit up when she breaks away, chasing her kiss but she pushes him back down. “Abby….” He reaches for her again, a determined look on his face. Forcing Abby to pin his arms to his sides. “Shhh, keep still.” He wants to question but the challenging look in her eyes makes him bite his tongue. 

 

Her hands run feather light down his sides, over his abdomen and back into his hair. His hands were gripping the sheets with white knuckles, struggling to stay still. Abby dips down to kiss him deeply, licking the seam of his mouth. Marcus is achingly hard now, straining against the confines of his cotton shorts. He knows she can feel it too, trapped between their bodies. “Abby…..please.” It’s a hoarse whisper punctuated by a deep moan. Marcus is almost writhing beneath her, losing his self-control quickly. Having him like this, completely at her mercy, gives her a sense of power. She kisses a path up his jaw, stopping just below his ear. “Please what Marcus?” She sucks lightly on his pulse point, feeling the moan vibrate in his throat. “I c-can’t….. If you keep….. It’s too much.” Marcus lets out a deep breath when she slides off of him, thinking he’s safe. Then, without warning, her hand slips past his waistband, gripping him tightly. He chokes on a gasp, stuttering her name. Her hand moves up and down his length, knocking the words from his chest. He’s close, evident in the way he’s become an incoherent mumbling mess. “Ab-Abby..” She keeps the same agonizing pace until his breathing is coming in short gasps. With one final stroke, he topples over the edge, groaning deeply

 

“Your turn,” He murmurs when his breathing steadies, but she shakes her head. “Goodnight Marcus.” He tries to protest, but she silences him with a finger to his lips. Repeating her good night in a tone he’s learned not to question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with the ending, it probably took me longer to write those parts than like 2 other chapters, I'll tell you why when I figure it out myself.


	7. Headhunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The highly mediocre aesthetic I came up with  
> https://tmblr.co/Z5-Vtf2MNamev

Marcus had been good about getting back well enough to slip into bed beside her. Even for only just a few hours sleep. The cold, empty bed Abby woke in scared her, for a moment it  _ terrified _ her. Slowly, she took control of her racing heart, reminding herself of all the perfectly safe things Marcus could be doing. The most likely of which was the meeting he had set up with Sinclair. 

 

*******

 

Getting to the lab is increasingly more difficult in broad daylight. Especially since Raven isn’t waiting at the door with a snarky comment to let him in. Also, starting off one of these kinds of meetings. the kind that usually only consist of a brief description of criminal activity, with ‘ _ Houston, we have a problem’ _ isn’t the greatest idea. 

 

“What do mean  _ we have a problem?” _ Sinclair asks, springing up from the couch and heading for the lab's lockdown controls. “I need a helmet,” He blurts, Sinclair coming to screeching halt and turning to him with a dumbfounded expression. “Real wordsmith Kane, you should write a book!” Raven chimes in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  _ Did they live down here? It wouldn’t surprise him. _ “You came bursting in here like someone was trying to set you on fire to tell me you need a damn helmet?” 

 

“Yes,” Marcus affirms, rather dumbly, still groggy himself. “Care to explain  _ why _ you need a damn helmet because I specifically remember saying you wanted to stick with the bandana for some reason.” 

 

“Well generally when someone’s after your head, you do everything you can to keep it where it is, as in  _ on my neck.” _

 

*******

 

Suddenly her phone vibrated, making her jump in a half panicked state. On the screen was a message from her branch manager and long time friend.

 

[9:19 AM]Art-Wig:

_ I know you’re still on leave Abs,  _

_ but I can’t hold him forever, besides  _

_ it’s boring here without you ~ XoXo _

[9:20 AM]A&W:

_ I’ll be in today, we’ve got _

_ lots to catch up on! _

 

[9:20 AM]CeCe:

_ That’s my girl! _

 

Smiling Abby launches herself out of bed, not yet ready to sit at a computer for six hours.

 

*******

 

Her coffee hasn’t even finished steam when he barges in, looking ever the smug and entitled asshole. “Ms.Walters, welcome back, might I ask why you were gone so long?” She shouldn’t be surprised, Executive Editor, Thelonious Jaha always had a thing for being in her company, _welcome or not._ “I had to take care of Marcus,” Abby grits, forcing a half-decent smile onto her lips. Something about this man and his pressed suits got under her skin _, instantly._ “I haven’t the slightest idea who that is but I have good news.”  Jaha grabs one of her desk chairs, thinking the absence of a request to leave is an invitation to stay. “You’re going into the field.” Abby chokes on her coffee. She’d begged for a field assignment for months _, nearly a year._ _Why was he giving her one now?_ “You’re being assigned to the hero project, I’ll have the equipment brought up shortly.” And with that, he’s gone, not even decent enough to wait for a reply.

 

Abby leans back in her chair, letting out a deep sigh, rubbing her face with the heel of her hand. “So,” a voice says, making her jump in the chair. “What did Mr.Stick-Up-His-Ass want?” It’s Callie, occupying the same chair Jaha had just vacated. “I got assigned to the hero project, whatever that is.”  From the look on her friend’s face, it’s a rather larger assignment. “Natwotcha,” she states, giving Abby an impressed look. “I swear to God,” Abby whispers in response. “What?” 

 

“Oh, nothing, just thinking about how the hell I’m going to get decent pictures of a fucking recluse.” Callie shakes her head wearing a small grin. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

 

*******

 

Marcus walks in as she’s settling down to fiddle with all her new camera equipment. He’s sporting a stack of boxes, two are the pizza she’d ordered for tonight's dinner, the other she doesn’t know. “I come bearing gifts.”

 

“Well, it’s not my birthday or yours, and I’m pretty sure it’s not Christmas, so to what do I owe the pleasure,” Abby jokes, sliding the camera strap over her head to grab a slice. “The human necessity to intake sustenance around three times a day.” Abby rolls her eyes, watching Marcus place the third box on the counter. “Mf-What is that?” He mumbles around his food, pointing to all of her new gear. “Nope, I wanna know what  _ you’ve  _ got first.” Marcus shakes his head, finishing off his slice and grabbing the strange package. Marcus opens it, taking out a contraption that looks like it had been a prop in a science fiction movie.  _ Whatever it was. _

 

Suddenly, Marcus was tearing off his carefully layered clothing. Momentarily confusing Abby until she saw the gun metal gray covering beneath it. _ His suit,  _ she thinks,  _ it goes with his suit. “ _ Eager much,” She teases, watching the way his lips curve upwards even when fumbling with his new equipment. 

 

The thing she now realizes is a helmet locks into the rest of his suit with a hiss that sounds much like an airlock. Marcus makes motions with his hands like he’s trying to explain a particular thing, but no sound comes from his armored form. “Marcus if you’re trying to speak to me I can’t hear a thing.” His palm connects with the top of what she assumes to be a visor, in an attempt at a facepalm. “As I was trying to explain before, the helmet connects with the rest of the suit, creating an air tight and impenetrable seal. Protecting me from any chemical weapons or an identity crisis.” She tries to keep her features schooled neutral, but thoughts of Marcus being targeted with weapons of any kind, chemical or not, still creates a pit in her stomach. “So, how does one break this  _ impenetrable seal  _ to oh I don’t know, take the helmet off?” Marcus un-gloves his hands, running the pads of his fingers over his neck briefly, then twisting the helmet slightly, releasing another hiss. Breaking the seal only to re-engage it seconds later. “Fingerprint recognition,” He says in a rather bubbly voice. Like a child proud of his new toy. 

 

Abby’s rather impressed, he looks exactly like someone you’d find in a superhero movie. Although, as much as the dark color scheme suits Marcus, she wouldn’t put it past someone to mistake him for the villain in said film. Slowly, she gets up, walking over to him and running her fingertips over the place his were moments ago….oddly depressurizing the suit like Marcus had. “Raven,” Marcus whispers, taking it off and examining the interior. “I feel as if I should’ve expected this, I’m just not sure how she got your fingerprint.”

 

“Well you know me, I just can’t keep my hands off you,” Smirking she pulls his head down, meeting him for a heated kiss. “You going to tell me what all  _ your _ stuff is for now?” Marcus whispers into her lips, wrapping his arms fully around her. “I’ve been assigned to photograph your heroics Mr.Kane.” One of his hands comes up to cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek with something akin to reverence. “I haven’t a clue why anyone would want pictures of me but it’s a grand achievement nonetheless Ms. Walters.” She laughs before pulling him down for another kiss.

 

*******

 

Abby’s just about to leave for her lunch break, despite it being nearly time for dinner, when the phone on her desk chimes to life. She tucks it between her ear and shoulder, still trying to pack her bag. “There’s someone here to see you, he’s cute if that’s any help, says his name is Mark or something. Should I send him up, he looks kind of antsy?” Abby sets her bag down, trying to curb the pang of jealousy Callie’s comment brought forth. It’s not like she know’s her and Marcus are together.  “Abby, Earth to Abby? You there girl?”

 

“Yes, Send him right up,” Abby blurts, hurtling out her thoughts, and relaxing back into her chair. The first thing she notices when he walks in is his attire. He’s dressed to the nines in a dress shirt and expensive black slacks. It’s similar to the outfit he wore the  _ AeroCorp  _ party,  _ only tighter. _ Showing off his broad shoulders and defined torso much better. It’s a sight she takes in for much longer than necessary. “What’s all this for?” Abby asks, trailing her hand down his chest to tuck his shirt in a little further. She can feel his heartbeat escalate under her touch, giving her an odd sense of power. “Well, I’m free tonight, and so are you, and I’ve felt like there’s one thing I really ought to do.” 

 

“Marcus, I’m not sure what exactly you’re talking about, but I’ve got a lot of work I need to get done, the pictures I need aren’t exactly easy to come by.” Marcus reaches into his back pocket, handing her a stack of photos. Her eyes go wide, somehow he’s managed to get front page worthy pictures of himself. Some scaling buildings in a deserted alley, others of spectacular quality for the middle of a fist fight. There’s even one of him perched on the ledge of a building, at such a height she’s a tad bit dizzy looking at it. “Marcus, how on Earth did you get these?” She asks with mock astonishment, very aware of the cameras surrounding them. “Oh you know, just hanging around in dark alleys, conversing with thugs, usual photography things, and now that you have these, you really  _ are _ free.” Abby gives him a side eye, stepping away to lock the pictures in her desk. “Free for what exactly?” 

 

“I’m taking you on a real date, dinner maybe a walk in the park, so come on.” Marcus tries to tug her out of the office, only to falter at her clear protest. He frowns for a moment before his features turn to inquisition. “Marcus, don’t you think I’m a bit underdressed for this?” He gives another smile and reaches for her hand again, leaning down, mouth inches from her ear. “If tonight goes how I plan, I’d say you're actually overdressed.” The comment leaves her dazed, allowing Marcus to guide her out of the office and towards the exit. Callie eyes him on the way out, more specifically the hand he has very low on the small of her back. 

 

*******

 

She protests still. ‘ _ It wouldn’t be proper if I’m in my street clothes Marcus.’  _ Halfway to their dinner reservation,  _ she wins _ . Despite numerous reassurances from Marcus that  _ she looks dazzling in anything. _

 

Marcus concludes that Abby winning against him isn’t at all bad when she does it wearing  _ this. _ It’s nothing extravagant or revealing, and it’s probably not even the dress- no it  _ isn’t _ the dress, it’s her. Her making the simple emerald garment glow against her creamy skin. How the knee-length fabric accentuates the definition in her legs. _ She  _ makes the  _ dress _ look incredible. Marcus will happily correct  _ anyone  _ who confuses that.

 

“Marcus, you’re staring,” She says in a weak voice, studying the grains of the floors in their bedroom. “I can’t help it….you’re gorgeous.” He wants to reach out and tuck that wayward strand back into place, but she beats him to it. His hands coming to cradle her jaw instead, his lips land on her cheek whispering  _ beautiful  _ into her skin. He kisses her other cheek,  _ stunning,  _ he breathes. His attention moves to her forehead, “My incredible Abby, I want you to always know.” His lips move to the crease between her brows, “You,” a kiss there. “Are.” A kiss on her nose. “ _ Loved.”  _ Marcus runs his thumb under her eye, wiping the lone tear from her skin. Words fail her then and she steps up on her toes, pressing her lips gently to his. It might be the slowest kiss they’ve ever shared, and if it conveys even an ounce of what she’s feeling, words are useless. Marcus drops his head to her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck, wrapping his arms protectively around her frame. “Always,” he whispers, so faint it goes unheard. 

 

*******

 

Abby hasn’t tiniest idea where Marcus is taking her, _ dinner,  _ is the only hint he’ll let out. She only gets more confused when he leads her through the glass doors of a tower she’s never been in, then into an elevator bound for the uppermost floor. 

 

Marcus loves watching her eyes light up when the doors open. It had taken a considerable amount of his savings and a hefty solid from Sinclair, but the considerable dent in his metaphorical pocket was nothing compared to the wonder on Abby’s face. That little extra twinkle in her eye and spring in her step was worth every cent.

 

“Reservations for Kane,” Marcus says to the cheery hostess that greeted them. Their table was nestled in a corner of glass, putting the city on display. She could almost make out the top of their building, off in the distance among the other twinkling lights. “Your waiter will be with you soon, please enjoy your evening.” The girl walk off, leaving two menus behind. “So, what do you think?” Marcus asks in a tone innocent enough as if he wasn’t in the same state of wonderment she was. “It’s beautiful Marcus, thank you.” Abby reaches over hand gliding smoothly over the white silk cloth, to grasp his hand. “The pleasure was all mine.” For awhile she just stares into those deep earthen eyes, her hand still clasped in his, tracing mindless patterns on each other’s skin. That is until a small cough breaks their stare. Their waitress, who introduces herself as Maya, gives the couple and apologetic look before jotting down their drink orders and disappearing into the kitchen. Marcus spots a makeshift dance floor off to the side and offers Abby his arm.

 

_ That’s when the first gunshot rings out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep it fluffy, but for plot's sake I had to do this, I'm sorry, you'll forgive me eventually


	8. The Battle-Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two part chapter for...... special purposes

“Sir, the teams are almost in position.”

 

“Good, you know what to do, correct?”

 

“Affirmative, Ops1 will create noise on the lower level, Ops two will take hostages on the top, dragging out the scene for as long as we can, engage when the target enters the nest.”

 

“No, you’re still not grasping this whole plan, Stevens. When he shows up, and he _will_ show up, you’re going to throw the fight, I want you to record it too, the more we can dig up about him the easier it will be to find him.”

 

“Mr.Griff-”

 

“This is a private comms channel for a reason, Stevens.”

 

“ _Sir,_ I still don’t understand the point of trapping someone to let them go?”

 

“Sometimes you must concede a battle to win a war.”

 

*******

 

Marcus spots a makeshift dance floor off to the side and offers Abby his arm. She accepts gladly, giving him another blushing smile.  


_That’s when the first gunshot rings out._

 

It’s an awful sound, painfully loud. Even with Marcus’ body on top of her’s. It still makes her ears ring. she’s never heard it this close before. Only when the ringing stops does she hear the shouting, _she wishes the ringing came back._ People are screaming, and Abby’s vaguely aware of something that sounds like struggling. “Marcus…. What’s going on?” Marcus hushes her quickly, being tucked into a corner keeps them away from the main commotion. He’s still shielding her with his body, her cheek pressed firmly against his chest. The overturned table they were lucky enough to fall behind provides some cover, but the plywood structure would splinter violently if shot. _It’s not enough, she’s not safe enough._

 

Cautiously Marcus peeks around the edge of the table, trying to get a better hold of the situation. Six men, two guns, lot’s of civilians, it looks like a simple robbery. What doesn’t make sense is how they got here. The only floor that’s open to the general public is  _this one._ All others require a special access key, obtained only by employment with the company that owns the building. Someone, one way or another had to have seen them walk in, 6 guy’s in ski masks don’t just  _appear._

 

Marcus can see the unlucky patrons being searched and restrained. Hands tied above their heads to a metal rod above the bar. It’s a sickening sight, one that sets off a jarring battle of wants and needs inside him.

 

He  _wants_ to help them, and he could do it, quite easily. He’s gotten himself out of worse before.

 

He _needs_ to protect Abby, she comes first. Above all else, she comes first, _always._ He tries to do just that, to protect her, to keep her out of view but her protests aren’t only his to hear. “Grab her,” the leader says, pulling the slide back on his 9mm and carelessly tucking it into his waistband. He can hear the other crook’s footsteps getting closer….. closer…… _closer_. Marcus jumps up, his fist connecting with the now broken cartilage of man’s nose. He staggers back, clutching at his now bleeding face. There’s a protective fire in Marcus’ eyes and posture. Shown in the way he tucks Abby behind his body, his lips forming an almost snarl when the man get’s back up. Waving a matching gun in their direction, with an air of attempted intimidation. “Brave little boy aren’t we, love the act but let’s drop it before I have to use this.” Marcus lunges out for a punch forcing the thief to lean back. It only takes a swipe of his foot to send the man to the floor, his head hitting the tile with a _thud_. Knocking the bastard out cold.  Wiping the blood from his lip, snagging the gun from the incapacitated criminal. He pulls the slide back and drops the magazine, checking the weapon with an expert hand. “Restrain him!” The leader orders, 3 of his minions rushing Marcus. Grappling for control of the weapon. The bandits are untrained, swinging wildly at Marcus who dodges nearly every blow.

 

It’s a horrible sight to watch, the man she loves, _her Marcus._ Being attacked like this, a loaded firearm dangerously jostling in the mix. She doesn’t notice him until an iron grip locks onto her arm, dragging her towards the others. “ _Marcus!”_ His head perks up, eyes searching for her’s, and arms going slack.

 

_She hears that sound again, not once but twice._ Only this time she has to watch the agony wash over Marcus’ face as the fabric of his shirt and leg darkens with blood. Has to watch his body fall almost limply to the floor, the solid grip on her arm keeping her firmly in place. Abby kicks her foot back into her captor's groin, making him recoil enough to free herself.

 

The only time she wastes in getting to him is freeing one of the other’s and shoving the handcuff keys into his palm. She sees blood, _and lots of it,_ seeping from the two new holes in his body. His face is distorted in what can only be described as _agony,_ one hand clutching at the wound to his abdomen and the other trying to undo his belt. It takes Abby only a heartbeat to grasp that he’s attempting to tie the belt around his leg, which is a considerable deal more bloodsoaked. Abby’s not sure who winces more as she tightens the tourniquet.

 

His palm is pressed firmly to his abdomen,  the paling skin frightening against the dripping red. “Hey,” She whispers, trying to move his hand away. Marcus shakes his head, pushing her hand away. Abby entwines their fingers, applying more pressure to his wound. Her free hand comes up to card through his hair. “Hey, you’re okay.” He doesn’t feel pain, more of an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. His body begging him to consent for sleep. But the woman above him, holding his hand and shedding tears onto his bloodstained chest keeps him awake, but Abby can see the light draining from his eyes, the light squeezes from his hand fading to nothing. “No, no, no, you’re okay, you’re okay.” Abby ducks her head to his chest, praying to hear something,

_anything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^  
> This is the evil line, what? You might ask is the Evil Line’s purpose, it’s where I cut the story in half and post the rest later. If you listen closely, you might be able to hear me laughing.


	9. The Battle-Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was a great nap, you can have your chapter now
> 
> https://skair1pa.tumblr.com/post/161544652612/truth-be-told-chapter-9-the-battle-part-two

The smell of antiseptic is everywhere, it almost burns her skin. Her track record with hospitals was rocky at best, she’d never visited one without experiencing a loss, _ she refused to continue that trend. _ Even if it meant storming through hallways of nightmarish memories, and one very aggravating doctor.

 

The glare Abby gives him could melt iron. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but the rules are clear, only family is allowed in recovery.” She looks as if she’s either going to punch him or stain his light blue scrubs with tears. Jackson tries to reach out a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder but she shies away, curling in on herself by wrapping her own trembling arms around herself. “Can’t you see…. I  _ am _ his family, he hasn’t got anyone else,” something inside her snaps at that, shown in the way her voice shakes and cracks with each new word. “S-so can I-I  _ please _ see h-him.” The doctor sighs, rubbing a hastily ungloved hand over his forehead. “The  _ only  _ one?” Abby can see the wavering in his eyes, a battle between empathy and protocol so deeply ingrained. The fight ends when she gives a meager but affirmative nod. He gives another deep and heavy sigh, opening the door. 

 

His room is filled with the steady beeping of his vitals, and she knows if she were connected to the machines. _ It would be silent, _ for the sight of him, broken and bandaged threatens to  _ shatter  _ her altogether. There’s a scary amount of hardware connected to him, the most peculiar was a blood drip.  _ He hadn’t bleed that much? Had he?  _

 

Abby takes stock of his wounds once more, making a sudden and jarring realization. “One of the bullets lacerated his femoral artery didn’t it?” She doesn’t glance up to see the shock on Jackson’s face but it’s plain enough in his tone. “I uh… yes…... that field tourniquet essentially saved his life.” A pause and a very slow exhale from the doctor before. “I mean no ill but  _ how _ did you know that?” Abby lets out a silent but shaky breath, willing the memories of studying anatomy with Marcus into the wee hours of the morning to vanish. “I didn’t go to school to become a journalist and that’s all you need to know.” The hand that reached out earlier hits its mark and Abby unconsciously leans into the touch. “He’ll be alright,” Jackson soothes and in a lighthearted tone “He’ll be sore as hell but alive.” For the first time in what feels like ages, Abby smiles, albeit quite weakly, but a perceptible curve of her lips blossoms at his joke. He takes the somewhat yearning look in her eyes and slight straining towards his bedside as his queue to leave and squeezes her shoulder lightly. “Fetch me when he wakes up alright, it’ll be soon.”

 

_ But it wasn’t soon _ , hours passed of Abby sitting in that uncomfortable hospital chair. Replaying those two minutes in her mind  _ over and over and over _ until they spin so wildly she begins to blame herself. For his pain, for his loss, for his very near death _ , the worst of all, if she hadn’t been lame with terror, none of this would’ve happened.  _ So alone she sits, sobbing silently, her face buried in the white sheets of his bed until a cough sends her hope skyrocketing.  _ Only to fall deeper than it had been before.  _ “What do you want,” she snarls, no room in her heart or energy in her body for pleasantries. Especially when it comes to  _ him. _ Jake Griffin stood in Marcus’ doorway, looking unfazed and wholly relieved. “I came to make sure you were alright?” Abby scoffs, throwing the asshole a look worthy of hell itself. “Me?  _ What about him?!” _ Jake has the decency to at least look slightly ashamed. “You know if this were you, Marcus would at least be glad you’re,” She adds, her words spitting bile. Jake moves from the doorway, standing at the foot of the bed. Abby rises up to meet him, burning holes in his chest with her eyes. “He seems okay.” Abby snaps, all the fear, pain, and guilt that accumulated inside her escaping as one  _ powerful _ slap. “Okay,  _ okay? _ He seems _ okay?  _ Are you blind! He  _ just got a double shot of fucking brass _ !” Jake rubs at the bright red spot on his cheek, wincing. “Sorry….. I just saw everything on the news, I tried to call you at work but the Callie said you’d gone out and then I saw the coverage of the restaurant and I just had to make sure you were alright……..I was worried sick I _ …...I still love you.” _ She freezes, a burning rage making her hands twitch and tremble. “That makes one of us.”

 

“Please,  _ Abby, I’m sorry,”  _  the sincerity in his voice catches her off guard, dousing the fire in her bones. “That was a long time ago Jake, we were different people……  _ we were kids. _ ” He looks defeated as if he really expected her to react differently.

 

“You should go,” Jake has enough shame to know he won’t make and headway. His leave is taken without further incident. 

 

Abby looks back at Marcus, his hair is  _ everywhere,  _ a few debris littering the dark strands. Like iron to a magnet, her hands tangle in the thick mess of it. Scratching her nails gently along his scalp in a way that always made him.. _ …. Sigh. _ Her hand stills, unsure if the sound she heard was just a cruel trick of the mind. 

 

“I love it when you mess with my hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Is aspiring to do shock value like Jrat, just less death)


	10. Moving Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy, I've been gushing over the comments. Love you all so so so much <3

 

She surges up to kiss him, not trusting herself to speak. It’s urgent and unyielding, a hot press of lips and teeth. Marcus responds eagerly, despite feeling as if he’s on the verge of passing out once more. Her hands grip his hair tighter, angling his head to better capture his mouth. He tries to pull her closer, stretching the muscles of his core painfully. Abby pushes him back onto the bed, climbing over the railing and snuggling into his side. “You came back,” she whispers, nuzzling into his neck and breathing him in. “Well, someone’s got to be a pain in your ass.” She wants to hit him for the dismissive comment, but she’s all too aware of the cuts and bruises decorating his skin. She won't cause him any more pain than he's already in.

 

She smiles down at him, scratching gently at his stubble, and he smiles back. Like he didn’t just hear Jake Griffin say he was in love with Abby,  _ that he still loved her. _

 

*******

 

Abby could tell being confined to a hospital bed was weighing on Marcus, she would’ve been more sympathetic if he recognized the legitimacy of his injuries. Or if this wasn’t the millionth time he’d needlessly gotten up on his crutches instead of resting. “Lay down Marcus.” He whined, pouting like a smile child and giving a very bad try at  _ puppy dog eyes. _ “Dammit Marcus,  _ lay down or I swear I will tie you to that bed.”  _ He tried to reach out for her but she sidestepped, nearly knocking him off balance. “Is that a threat  _ Doctor Griffin. _ ” He’d started calling her that since the moment Jackson had let slip while explaining his injuries and treatment that she could’ve done the whole thing herself. “If it has to be, although I can  _ guarantee  _ you won’t like it one bit once it’s done.” He whines again and she wants to smack him on the head with the newspaper he was reading earlier. “Lay with me?” Marcus scoots over and pats the space he just created. Abby rolls her eyes and takes a chair instead. “You won’t get any sleep if I do that.”

 

“Yeah,  _ I know, _ ” Marcus says, wiggling his eyebrows and making a general fool of himself. “You need sleep Marcus your-”

 

“I need  _ you _ , I’ve slept plenty.” Abby sighs, checking her watch and mumbling something about  _ ‘needy drugged up men’. _ “You’ve got half an hour until physical therapy, and I’m not scarring whatever poor doctor that got stuck dealing with you, so don’t get any funky ideas.” She isn’t even next to him before hands slide under her shirt and he’s whispering  _ ‘too late’  _ between kisses to her neck. 

 

*******

 

Abby sat at the small desk next to Marcus’ bed, scrolling through the pages of her story. It had been a fight just to get a few days off to stay with Marcus, only being allowed the leave if she worked from the hospital. Marcus’ pictures had been just the leverage, Thelonious’ jaw had hit the floor when she revealed just a few of them, and it bought her the time she needed to make sure Marcus would let his body heal.

The leave was nice and the pictures had essentially saved her, but that didn’t stop the growing ache between her temples, brought on by the cursed antiseptic smell. Her phone rang and she answered, not even bothering to check the number.  _“Abigail!”,_ A voice from her nightmares shouted.  _Shit_. Abby groaned, not even bothering to cover the speaker and hide it. “I’m so relieved, we saw what was happening in the city and when we couldn’t get ahold of you I was so frightened.” She glanced at Marcus’ sleeping form, drawing strength from his presence to finish this and say the words she was dreading. “Hi, mom.” The woman didn’t acknowledge her, just continued on with her tangent about being  _ ‘deathly afraid for my daughter’s safety. _ After ten minutes of Abby giving one word answers and noises of disagreement she cut her off. Long since having set the phone on the desk, turning on the speaker function, to bang her head on the wood. “Alright, what do you want Mom, we haven’t spoken in years so there has to be something you want.” Her mother huffed and sputtered, mumbling about  _ ‘not being able to have a nice conversation.’ _ Abby sighed, long and hard her headache intensifying further. “I want you to move back home.” She laughed loudly, startling Marcus from his slumber unknowingly. “Even if I did want to go back to that hell hole, I can’t leave Marcus.” Marcus smiled internally, eyes still closed shifting in mock sleep until his hand grazed Abby’s and she tangled them together. “The city isn’t safe, not with all those criminals running around.” 

 

“Marcus will keep me safe like always.” He couldn’t hide the smirk this time, nor the squeeze of her hand in his. “Your  _ roommate? _ As I recall he isn’t exactly a stable person, I’m not very assured.” Just for the humor Marcus sat up and spoke next to the device. “I happen to be perfectly sane Mrs. Walters.” He could hear the gasp from the other line, chuckling to himself as Abby swatted his shoulder. “Why on Earth did you put me on speaker Abby?” 

 

“Because this damn hospital smell is making my head pound and the thought of you blabbing straight in my ear was even worse.” Her mother gasped, whispering something incomprehensible. “What are you doing in a hospital, did you finally quit the newspaper job and become a doctor like you were supposed to?” 

_ Asshole, _ Abby whispered, making Marcus laugh and wobble on his crutches. The pain in his leg and abdomen had faded to a dull ache and the stitches would be coming out any day now. “Marcus got into a…… an accident, just a few stitches that’s all.” The older Walters woman clearly didn’t believe her daughter but didn’t press further. “So when will you be moving back home?”

 

“Um, never.” Marcus dropped his crutches, balancing on his good leg to test it out. “Marcus!” Abby hissed, dropping the phone and rushing to hold him up by his shoulders. “Go lay down and stop being stupid.”

 

“Why?” Abby glares at him, slinging his arm over her shoulder and all but dragging him back to the bed. “Remember what we discussed yesterday?” He nods, smirking at the fact she’d forgotten her mother was still on the phone. “You said if I got up again you tie me down and keep me down, verbatim.” Abby put her hands on his chest, pushing him back gently. “Lay down Marcus,” He obliged her, mumbling a very sarcastic   _ ‘yes dear’ _ and loving the ways she rolled her eyes.

 

The undeniable sound of a passionate kiss drifted through the speaker and into her mother’s ears, releasing a gasp. “ _ Abigail Rose Walters! What are you doing!”  _ She glared down at Marcus, who was smirking like he knew exactly what he had just done. She tried to grab her phone but Marcus beat her to it. “Goodbye Diana.” The line clicked shut and Marcus wrapped his arms around Abby, pulling her back on top of him. “Now where were we,” He chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows again, but she pushed off him, sitting back at the desk. “Don’t even think about it….. You do realise she hates you right and she’ll never stop calling me now.” He tried to reach for her again but she swatted at his hand and went back to her laptop. 

 

*******

 

The stitches had hurt like hell coming out, but those few little pieces of thread were the only thing standing between Marcus and his freedom. He signed the release papers and felt a rush of relief pass through his body like the ink seeping into the page. “Quick question, since I’m going home does that mean I can return to my full activity level in a few days, say I wanted to free climb a mountain could I??” Jackson’s eyes moved suspiciously between him and Abby. “Yeah, you’re good to go, but just a forewarning if you do decide to climb a mountain you’re going to be incredibly sore afterwards.” 

 

His first step outside was glorious, as foul smelling as city air could be he breathed deeply, loving the scent. “I missed this,” He leaned in close, as close as the crutches allowed him but enough to whisper softly into her ear. “Although you commanding me to bed was very enjoyable.” Abby giggled and kissed his cheek, wishing she could hold his hand as they walked to the car. 

She was all smiles as Marcus talked excitedly about finally getting to sleep in a real bed and eat real food. They both hated hospitals and were very grateful to be free of it. He was giddy as a child hobbling up the steps and unlocking their apartment. But the way his face falls as the door swings open scares her. 

 

The place has been ransacked,  _ destroyed. _ Pictures broken, furniture overturned, every cabinet is open their contents spilled out onto the floor. She wanted to cry, and she did burying her face into Marcus’ back, silent tears dripping down her cheeks. Marcus slipped his pack off, pulling something out.  _ A gun, where did he get a gun?  _ “Marcus….”

 

“Shh,” he looked back at her, urging her to step further behind him as he crept into the remnants of their living space. Checking every corner of the area like you would a hostile war zone. When he finally relaxed, clicking the safety back into action all he could do was stare at the floor. “Pack your clothes, were leaving,” He said, grabbing two suitcases from under the bed. She did so, silently, and when she finished and had nothing to occupy herself with. Abby looked at the frames that decorated the floor with their shattered glass.  _ The pictures were intact, thankfully. _ As for everything else it was completely ruined, everything was there, nothing had been stolen. Just ripped apart needlessly.  

 

Marcus ditched the crutches despite the soreness of his leg, he needed to be able to move freely if anyone was waiting for them. Suddenly Abby grabbed his hand, looking frantic and distraught. “Marcus,” she whispered, “Where’s your suit?”

 

“Destroyed probably, I don’t think the bullet holes and bloodstains could’ve been fixed.” She gave him another look, “Marcus, where is your  _ suit.” _ He froze, then swung the pack off his shoulder again, dumping its contents onto the remnants of their bed. She grabs his pillow, the only one that could even still be called a pillow, and stuffs it into her suitcase. 

 

When Marcus can’t find the suit in his bag, he panics, fearing that it had been stolen and his secret was out, until he stepped back and the floorboards squeaked. He pushed the ruined bed to the opposite wall, there it was, the one loose floorboard right where he left it. 

 

Abby watched Marcus rip up a piece of the floor, revealing a secret compartment. He pulled out shoebox, taking the lid off and tucking a smaller box into his pocket before closing it and placing the shoebox in his suitcase. The next thing he pulled out made both of them sigh in relief,  _ their secret was still safe. _ He tucked the garment into the bottom of his pack, it was safer on his person than in a suitcase.  While he gathered the rest of his things, Abby tucked the photos into a folder and slipped it into her laptop case, taking one final glance at the place they once called home. Marcus put a hand on her shoulder, silently urging her out.  _ It’s just an apartment, _ she thought, trying to believe the words, but it wasn’t  _ just  _ an apartment, and it never would be. In exactly the same way their lives would never be the same again. 


	11. The Tree- Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another two-part chapter aye? What's gonna happen this time?

He drove silently, an iron grip on the steering wheel. They were forced to ditch Marcus’ car, it was too big and too noticeable, her’s was smaller and quicker.

 

He was driving unfamiliar streets to a strange part of town with a practiced ease, _he knew where he was going,_ she didn’t. She also couldn’t ask, Abby had foolishly thought they’d have a few days before Marcus threw himself back into saving the city. _A few hours at least,_ but no, they were on the run now. Always cautious, always looking over their shoulders, _waiting,_ because they both felt it.

 

_Something was coming, soon._

 

*******

 

He pulled into the lot of an abandoned storage facility, clicking the safety of his gun and checking the clip. He grabbed her bag and his, instructing her to stay behind him. The confusion didn’t strike until he stopped at the entrance to the facility, running his hands over the wall.

 

_Click._

 

Marcus relaxed and set down the bags to hold her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “I’m sorry Abby.” She frowns, stepping closer in order to wrap her arms around the defeated-looking man. “For putting you through, _all of it,_ I shouldn’t have dragged you into this- “ She kisses him, because it’s the easiest way to shut him up and make him believe she doesn’t give a damn about what happened, didn’t care that they didn’t have much more than what they could carry, or that they were about to live in a _storage locker._ It was the easiest way to remind him that he was loved and no amount of misfortune was going to tear them apart.

 

He sighed into her mouth, his hands slipping under the material of her shirt to draw patterns of the soft skin of her back. She pulls back to rest her head on his shoulder, snuggling into the warmth of his body.

 

Someone clears their throat, breaking the embrace. “What do you need Kane?” Abby steps back all the way, eyes going wide when faced with what seems to be _a middle school student._ The girl was small, and when she stepped up to shake Abby’s hand, she could see the small limp she was downplaying.

 

Abby was mesmerized as she led them down a short staircase to an underground elevator, that took them even further underground. _So this is where Marcus went for his meetings,_ she thought, watching the depth counter go higher and higher.

 

When the doors opened, a man Marcus’ age rushed in and grabbed the girl. Pulling her into a fierce hug. “What the hell were you thinking _answering the door this late?”_

 

“Well, when someone knocks, _you answer,_ and I checked the cameras beforehand so don’t pop a vein.” The man huffed, greeting Marcus with a firm handshake. Abby didn’t want to intrude as the men whispered softly, but the arm Marcus had draped over her shoulder was slowly getting heavier. “Excuse me, but Marcus is only just out of the hospital and he needs to rest, is there any place we can get a decent night’s sleep.”  Sinclair looked between Marcus and herself, a very strange look on his face. “Why the hell were you in a hospital?”

 

“I got shot,” Marcus yawned, allowing the exhaustion in his body to show. “Dumbass,” Raven mumbled, brushing past to move their bags into another room. “ _Language!”_ Sinclair warned, giving the girl a stern look. “English!” Was the retort that came from Raven. “Smartass,” Marcus called, antagonizing the girl with an odd familiarity. “Jackass!” Sinclair hit both of them on the head with a newspaper, instructing Abby to drag Marcus to the second sleeping area, down the hall, and to the left.

 

*******

 

It was early, and he didn’t want to be awake, but that _box_ was burned into his mind. He hadn’t opened it in years, not since he’d buried it under the floor. He hadn’t added to it in an even longer time, _thankfully._ At one time he believed it held his greatest enemy, _his imminent destruction,_ but that is untrue. The only thing that can destroy one in a way as such to diminish every last shred of one’s existence;

 

_Is one’s self._

 

So awake he lay, the woman he loved cradled against his chest, thinking of all the times he failed those he loved and praying he didn’t do it to her.

 

That box held other things though, memories _,_ his _hope,_ and his greatest treasure. That box held nearly everything he had left of his mother except for…..

 

Marcus groaned aloud, nearly waking Abby as he jumped out of bed and into his clothes. _He’d forgotten his mother’s tree,_ there on the windowsill when he’d last seen it was where it should be. The thief wouldn’t have bothered with a plant, to anyone outside of Marcus’ circle would just see it for it was. _A tree._

 

Or so he hoped as he sprinted down the streets of his sleeping city. Running until he felt he was breathing in fire and not oxygen and his legs could scarcely move him at such a pace any longer. Until his body was screaming for rest and he was finally there, breathing greedily as a drowning man breaking the surface.

 

He ignores the ache in his chest from walking through the tattered remains of the place he first found his home. Sighing in great relief when by the light of the surrounding buildings the tree illuminated itself to him, _but it wasn’t just his mother’s tree._

 

“Hello, Marcus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the next few (After part-two of this) chapters will..... um angst. That's really all I can say without spoiling everything.


	12. The deal- Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance, please don't disown me

They were on him in an instant, dragging him back to that out of place  _ unbroken _ chair he’d neglected to place as strange set up in the middle of the room. Only now as he was bound did he notice the differences since he’d last been here. 

 

The floors have been cleared, all the furniture heaped in a corner, making space for that one solitary chair. The figure who’d greeted him stood by the window, watering the tree in the exact way he’d done as a child. “I know who you are,” the figure said calmly, emptying the last of the vial into the soil.  “I know everything about you, from the scar on your knee from when you fell off your bike to your deepest regret…..you can learn a great about an enemy from their family.” Marcus struggled against his bonds, nearly tipping the chair over. When that proved futile he stopped, wracking his mind for who this man could be. When the figure turned, and the crisp fabric of his tailored suit made itself clear, despite his face being shadowed,  _ he knew. _ The smell of foreign cologne and rich entitlement should’ve alerted him sooner.

 

“ _ Griffin.” _

 

“Kane.” Marcus was seething, it wasn’t a robbery or a search for something,  _ it was a trap, _ and he’d fallen right into it. “If you’re going to imprison or kill me,  _ why haven’t you done it.” _ Jake grimaces, taking a very measured breath before turning back to a smirking Kane. “Because as much as I loathe your relationship, getting  _ rid  _ of you wouldn’t bring her any closer to me than she already is.” There’s a long drawn out silence before Jake moves about the room, taking stock of his work. Only enraging Marcus further as he is forced to watch pieces of his life kicked about the floor. “I’m here to have a little fun if that’s what you’re wondering….. and to make you an offer but that comes later.” Another figure steps from the dark, wielding a baton, two more with similar weapons flank him. A fourth releases his bonds, kicking the chair and sending him to the floor. 

 

He’s tired, damn well near starved, and still recovering, and in  _ no _ position to fight, but he holds his own. Long enough to break a nose, an arm, and maybe even a leg before more crooks appear and restrain him. The room is filled with them,  _ robotically obedient soldiers.  _ He recognizes some of the faces,  _ kids,  _ they’re all kids. There had been an article in the paper not all that long ago, detailing a new program funded by  _ AC _ . A center for teenage criminals to reform and be ‘ _ put to use in a great cause.’ _

 

Once he collapses, his seat is repositioned, and he’s shoved back down into it. His legs and hands being restrained even further. “The world is dying Kane, war, poverty,  _ needless suffering. _ I can fix that but your meddling has to stop……. Did you ever think to actually find out the  _ why  _ instead of just the what? I’m going to save the world Kane, but you’re standing in my way.” 

 

“No I didn’t but I’m here, aren’t I? Tell me, explain this  _ great _ plan of yours that will solve  _ everything. _ ” A punch lands unhindered on his jaw, and his head snaps to the side with a dizzying force. The robotic soldier steps back quickly, only giving Marcus a small glimpse of his face.

 

The dark curly hair, the freckles, the too mature expression for such a young boy.  _ He’d helped Abby babysit him all those years ago. _ “Bellamy Blake, what on Earth have you gotten yourself into.” 

 

Jake steps up to the boy, cupping his jaw and turning his head harshly. He doesn’t even blink when Jake’s hand connects with his face. The only sign he’d been slapped was the fading red print. “They feel  _ nothing, _ they’re completely obedient and totally under my control.  _ They’re the perfect weapon.” _

 

_ “ _ They’re kids!” Marcus shouts, struggling against the ties once more. Ignoring the fierce ache in his bones, and now open and bleeding wound on his abdomen. Staining his favorite gray shirt. “They’re expendable,” Jake fires back, all too calm. “They’re also the key to everything….. If the youth controls the future, then whoever controls the youth  _ controls the world. _ ” He was sick of listening,  _ sick of being here,  _ in this room with a man who planned to fix the world by dominating its children. “You said you had an offer and I believe you had your fun,  _ what is it?” _ He growls, putting every drop of bile and venom he has into the words. “I want you to submit, publicly, and when the time is right, subject one of your own to an injection.”

 

“I don’t have any-”

 

“ _ Hush, _ I’m not finished, as I was trying to say, you’ll need to give this all up, leave if you have to, take her with you for all I care, but this city shall bear your residence no longer  _ is that clear?” _

 

“And what if I refuse?” Marcus asks coolly, almost in a mocking sort of way. “Then you won’t exist, and no one will remember the broken soul of Marcus Kane. You have 48 hours of immunity to make your decision. For Abby’s sake, I hope you know what you're doing.” Jake motions to one of his soldiers who produces a wicked looking syringe. He shows it off, taunting Marcus with that same smirk he’d had even as a child. “I hope you don’t mind, it was this or a bag over your head, I figured you’d like this a little bit  _ more. _ ”  He plunges the needle into Marcus’ neck with a careless folly. 

 

Slowly everything goes dark, his eyelids slip closed without permission until his body is too heavy and he succumbs to a drug induced sleep.

 

*******

 

Abby wakes to the sound of hushed voices and the lack of Marcus’ warm sold presence next to her. His clothes are gone and his sheets cold. It’s a horrible feeling to wake up and think the worst has come to those you love.

 

_ It’s an even worse feeling to see that it has.  _

 

An unconscious and gravely batter Marcus rests on Raven’s workstation. Being poked prodded and bandaged by and furious looking Sinclair. Raven tries to gently guide her away from him, soothing and whispering things she doesn’t even hear. Abby pushes right through her, striding over to the table. She takes his pulse, it’s steady, more so than hers. 

 

She could handle the first times of almost death, they were accidental or coincidental,  _ this was something else. _ He’d gone out needlessly and been reckless without any care as to who it might,  _ or if he’d even come back. _ After he’d promise to stay safe, to think of himself.  _ To think about them _ . Something that made her jaw clench and hands twitch.

 

 

_ Never in his entire life had Marcus Kane made Abigail Walters this furious _


	13. Time's Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But he didn’t have a fancy cape, or super strength, or the ability to fly. He didn’t have someone creating a beautiful and inspiring story of victory through determination to set the world right. All he had was the few people in this world that still loved him and he was about to royally screw them over.

He’d been told he had 48 hours to give Jake and answer. 19 of those had been spent in a chemically induced coma. The next 5 spent trying not to throw up every time he moved as the drug slowly left his system. Abby was _pissed,_ therefore she spent another 4 hours ignoring him before the begging and pleading,  and lots of it finally broke down the walls.  Two of which he learned she’d been sleeping and he’d been talking to a closed door. By that point, he still didn’t have an answer and slept away another 10 with Abby tucked safely in his arms. He woke at nearly two in the morning, A bad taste in his mouth and knots in his stomach. _He’d made his decision,_ but there were a number of things he had to do before hand and a number of ways he had to prepare himself for what was to come. 

 

Jake had left a note in his pocket, detailing that when he decided his answer was to be conveyed at the fountain, in the heart of the city park. He couldn’t tell if it was a risk or just a thing. A fight breaking out in such a crowded area would be a risk, but depending on how crowded it was he could be whisked away to his death at any time. 

 

He got dressed slowly, picking the garments carefully to hide what was underneath. He needed this to go right. That involved separating what should be done and what he  _ wanted to do. _

 

What he wanted to do, _ for god knows how long, _ was to climb over and kiss her entire body until she was breathless and writhing beneath him. He wanted to wake her up and tell her it would never happen again and that he’d always be there.  _ But if today went anything like how he thought _ , that would be a cruel thing to do to the woman you loved.

 

 _This isn’t how any of this was supposed to go._ _This isn’t how the superhero story goes, and he knew that. This was anything like the comics Marcus had read as a child. Finding solace in the world of ever prevailing good._ _The hero always won_ , _and the villain never got the upper hand for more than a few pages, but those heroes had things he didn’t. They had capes and they could fly. They had enemies and allies that didn’t seat themselves so deeply in society you couldn’t figure out which one of them was looking to stab you. And which one of them was there to slip you information. They had the strength of a thousand men and a world written so that they always prevailed._

 

_ But he didn’t have a fancy cape, or super strength, or the ability to fly. He didn’t have someone creating a beautiful and inspiring story of victory through determination to set the world right. All he had was the few people in this world that still loved him and he was about to royally screw them over.  _

 

_ 6:00 AM, 4 hours on the clock. _

 

He’s slow in everything he does, wanting to draw out every touch, every sleepy kiss. The way she clings to him as the water cascades down their bared bodies. He ignores the wants, focuses on her,  _ the needs.  _ Cleansing her with reverence and not the desire of man.  _ It feels like paying his respects and he wants to cry at the thought, _ but as the water grows colder and her stomach growls he thinks better of it. They have 3 and a quarter hours, according to the timer she can’t hear ticking away in the cuff of his suit. 

 

She was  _ exhausted _ as he dressed her, rubbing her eyes and yawning into his shoulder. Part of him felt guilty for waking her, but he thinks the alternative is worse.  _ Besides,  _ he muses trying to cut the dark thoughts from his mind,  _ he hasn’t gotten to take her out for breakfast yet.  _

 

Marcus cradles her against his chest, swaying side to side. He can’t count the number of times he kisses her head or cheek, nuzzling into her neck to inhale the clean scent she always carries. Just relaxing in the contented little sighs and hums she makes while rising up to meet him for a slow kiss.

 

_ 7:30 AM  2 and a half hours on the clock  _

 

Marcus takes her to one of their favorite little spots. It’s nothing overly fancy, just good food and a quiet table. The rising city sun catches her just right and she glows, humming and sipping on the tea he’d pre-ordered. Knowing exactly from first glance at the menu what she’d want. 

 

The little balcony table they’d snagged puts them up just high enough to escape the noise but keep the beauty. They sit quietly, Marcus for lack of anything to say, and Abby for wanting to relish the silence. It was comfortable, what  _ wasn’t  _ comfortable, was the somber expression on his face as he studied her. “Are you alright?” He looks up from the, quickly smiling at her. “I feel great….why do you ask?” Her lips form a thin line and her brow creases, looking for truth in the words. “You prefer breakfast in bed, this isn’t like you and you look like you want to cry.” Marcus rolls his slightly glassy eyes and shakes his head. “What am I not allowed to take my beautiful girlfriend out for breakfast?” His teasing does nothing to soothe the sense of foreboding coiling tight in her chest. “Marcus,  _ I know you, _ what’s going on?” 

 

 

Their waiter arrives seconds after the soft words leave her lips. Giving him an out he takes gratefully. The topic drops and the silence returns. The only thing he does different is tangle their hands under the table, drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Smiling at her as much as he can and keeping careful tabs on his facial expression. To her it feels too  _ calculated _ , it’s Marcus but it isn’t  _ her  _ Marcus. The one who never left without kissing her goodbye, the one that always held her hand in public. The one that couldn’t seem to go a day without telling her she was incredible. He was different but not unknown,  _ and that’s what scared her. _

 

Marcus was desperately fighting not to say it, the words catching in his throat and choking him. The smallest box flashing in his mind whenever their hands brushed or gazes meet. He saw his perfect future in the depths of her eyes.  _ Perfection doesn’t come to men like Marcus Kane.  _ A perfect future was not his for the taking, but  _ she  _ deserved it.  _ She _ deserved everything, but now as he sits, sharing secret smiles and light touches, Marcus feels like he doesn’t have anything left to give.

 

_ 9:00 AM 1 hour on the clock. _

 

The timer beeps once he was hoping it would beep again, but once is all he gets,  _ he has one hour left. _ Abby talks cheerily with Raven, accept Marcus’ excuse of tiredness from the small amounts of chemicals still in his system.

 

What he really needed was an out, a way to get one more thing off his list. One very sharp pencil and a pad of yellow legal paper were all he needed. There was one for Raven, one for Sinclair, and one for her. 

 

Marcus hoped as he finished the last letter, he’d get to burn these when he got back. Destroy them before anyone got the chance to read them, to know what they held. The secrets, the promises.  _ He wanted to destroy them, _ but he grabbed Abby’s coat and set them in place anyways. Time was running out and he had made his choice.  _ He was going to burn those letters. _

 

_ 9:30 AM Half an hour on the clock _

 

He stopped the car and opened her door. Offering his hand he helped her step from the car and wrapped the coat around her shivering shoulders. A dismal overcast sky forming above them, matching his earlier thoughts. Yes, this world sucks, but she alone could make it worth it. For a while, they just walking, doing laps surrounding by the natural beauty. A cold wind blows, chilling their skin but doesn’t detract. The slight crispness only heightens the feel.

 

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in as close as he can without toppling her over. Afraid what he has to say might drive her away. “I need to tell you something.” Her step faltered and she turned in his embrace, tilting her head in confusion and concern. “Griffin gave me a choice….. that night when I snuck out. He was in our apartment…..” Her eyes go wide as he retells the events, only skipping over the time limit. Starting with his running, to the look in Bellamy Blake’s eyes, to which she gasps and holds his hand tighter. _ “ _ Well, what did you decide?” He grabs her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, “You,  _ always you.” _

 

_ 9:55 AM 5 minutes on the clock. _

 

They end the walk around the perimeter, joining the small crowd around the fountain. Marcus slips his wallet from the small backpack he carried.He smiles his first real smile as she drops the coin into her hand.  _ A Marcus smile.  _ “Make a wish.” Abby chuckles, giving him a quick peck. For a moment she just eyes the fountain, remembering something Callie had told her the first time she’d thrown a coin into these same bubbling waters.

 

_ If you make it in the top, your wish just has to come true. _

 

She places the coin on her thumbnail, closing her eyes and flipping the coin upwards, watching it go up and up and straight into the peak of cascading water. She smiles and looks back at him, leaning back further into his chest as he wraps her in his arms. Just loving the feeling of being surrounded by his strong arms and never wanting to leave.

 

_ 10:00 AM Times up _

 

Something that sounds like a timer beeps and Marcus’ whole body goes rigid. His eyes dart around, scanning each of the paths that lead into the fountain. “Marcus, what’s going on?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls her body closer to his. Almost like he’s hugging her goodbye. “Time's up,” a sardonic voice resonates behind them. She doesn’t have to turn to know who it is.  _ He’d been given a choice but hadn’t really decided, had he? _

 

Marcus is ripped from her arms by two lanky kids in black suits. Abby yelps and stumbles backward, someone catches her arm in a near vise grip. “Woah there,” she jerks away from Jake’s touch. Trying to run back to Marcus who is struggling to break away from the two unnaturally strong teens. “ _ Dammit, Jake!” _ Marcus growls knocking one of his assailants out with a brutal punch and shoving the other away.”You said I had an out!” Jake laughs and two more soldiers appear, trying to restrain him once more. “Did I now…..hmm it’s a shame I don’t recall it then.” More soldiers move to grab Abby, dragging her roughly. “Jake! _ Jake…. _ just…... just let me have a minute with her!” He smiles and looks between the two struggling people. Chuckling to himself. “Show some decorum boys, give the man his minute.” Abby collides with Marcus’ chest, jumping into his arms and wrapping around his body. “I thought you said…” Abby trails off, choosing to bury her head in the slope of his neck. “I did…..  _ god Abby I do,  _ he lied.” Tears slip down both their cheeks as the second tick down.

 

Marcus sets Abby back on her feet, slinging his pack off his shoulder and digging his helmet out. Refusing to go down without a fight, but before he can slip it on, Jake chimes in and announces their minutes up. Four bodies cling to him as they all topple to the ground. 

 

That small black box he’d had for years before anything was even between them. The one that held what he wanted to be the key to a happy life flies from his pocket as the knees dig into his back. Jake grabs it and opens the lid, gasping at what’s inside. “My oh my Marcus,  _ you brought me a present, _ I don’t know if diamonds are my thing though.” He holds the ring up tauntingly, looking at it shimmer in the faint sunlight. “What do you think Abby, is it a good fit? I can’t tell.” The men drag Marcus up, his shirt is torn and Abby can see the now scratched and scuffed metal of his suit. She picks up his helmet, dodging the bodies that lunge to stop her, and slides it onto his head using her fingerprint to lock it in place. She kisses the visor and watches the man she loves fight and strain to no avail. Then cuffed and shoved into a squad car.

 


	14. It makes her feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's a girl who gets what she wants, by any means necessary.

He’d left the keys in the car, his coffee cup still sitting in the driver’s side cup holder. Her knuckles were pale against the dark trimmed steering wheel, the grip kept her from doing what she really wanted to do.  _ Scream, _ loud enough it would echo around the interior of the car and out into the streets. Loud enough all the fear, anger, and loss she felt would drift away and she could get a clear head. She needed a clear head, the traitorous tears the slipped down her cheeks as she drove, pushing the speed limit, weren’t going to save him.  _ And he certainly wasn’t going to save himself.  _

 

She turned off the main road, the last one she remembered Marcus taking out of Sinclair’s lab. She pulled off to the side, startled by the honking of a cab driver’s horn. She lets her head drop back staring up at the roof when a small slip of paper catches her eye. 

 

_ I hope you’ll never need this and I can burn it along with everything else. Get back quickly and stay inside, be careful.  _

_ -M  _

 

She doesn’t know what he means by ‘ _ everything else’ _ but she focuses on putting the hastily scribbled address into her phone so she can get the hell out of dodge. 

 

*******

 

Raven bombards her the second the doors opened. “ _ Where’s Kane? _ Why aren’t you with him and why won’t Sinclair let me read whatever was my letter from him.” She doesn’t stop the machine gun of questions until she follows Abby’s gaze to the sheet with an elegantly scrawled  _ Abigail _ , on it. 

 

_ I never wanted it like this, I wish it didn’t end like this. I wish I was enough of a man to do the things I dreamed about, but if you’re reading this it means I’m not. I’m not the man that gets to hold you, that gets to kiss you, that gets caught in the rain with you, that gets to make you breakfast in bed or any of the stuff a guy in love does.  _

 

_ Because I threw it away and I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it a million times, and I know this is a poor excuse for an apology but you’re laughing with Raven about some line I should use next time we go out and I’m trying my best not to cry onto the paper. Because if you’re reading this there isn’t a next time because I didn’t get to burn this letter like I wanted the moment I finished it. I just need one thing, don’t try to get a next time. I couldn’t forgive myself knowing you got hurt doing something insane like trying to break me out. It’s a death sentence, Jake will kill anyone caught helping me. Please don’t make this harder than it already is, don’t get yourself hurt. It’s not worth it, but you are, please don’t do anything to get yourself in trouble. _

 

She does cry then, terrible wracking sobs ripping through her body with a violent force. Raven catches her, guiding her to the couch and hold her as memories of the last time Marcus Kane thought himself worthless flood through her panicked mind.

 

 

_ 6 years ago, age 19. _

 

She knew his signs and knew them well. That sinking feeling her gut wasn’t helping either. Abby checked her watch,  _ Vera would still be out, _ leaving it just Marcus and his father  _ alone.  _  She didn’t bother knocking, she had a key for a reason. The glimpse of Ryan Kane slipping his belt back into its loops was cause to dash up the stairs without him seeing her. 

 

The first thing that shocked her was the smell, his normally clean room wreaked of alcohol and copper. There isn’t a single spot of light in the room and she nearly trips over the desk she’s sat at hundreds of times. She calls out his name and the only sound she hears is running water coming from the ensuite. Marcus jumps out of the door closing it behind him quickly and zipping a hoodie over his bare chest. He moves weakly and slow, obviously still brutally sore from his injuries. She drops her bag on his bed, smacking his hands away when he tries to keep her from looking at the deep purple painted across his skin. “Why do you let him do this to you?” She asks in a hushed whisper, brushing her fingers lightly over a particularly large mark. He shrugs her off angrily, zipping the jacket back up and grabbing something from his fridge. He cracks the can open and takes a long sip.  “Alcohol isn’t going to make you feel better Marcus.” He takes another deliberate sip, finishing off most of it in a few gulps. “What are you talking about, I already feel better.” He wreaks of the disgusting liquid, it’s spilled over his clothes and he’s got half a week’s stubble growing on his normally clean-shaven face. “Marcus being drunk is wasting your time, there are so many more things you could be doing,” She presses, blocking him from getting another drink. “Like what?”

 

“Studying, we go out to college in less than a year, you're going to want a full rap sheet.” He gives her a lame look like she said something completely stupid. “You think  _ I’m _ going to get into a college? Come on even  _ you _ should be able to see I’m not good enough.” She tries to reach out and his hand but the hiss he lets out when her fingers graze his wrist speaks volumes. “ _ Marcus,”  _ she whispers in a hushed and pained tone, “Let me see.” He shrinks away, sinking down onto his bed and sipping from a bottle that definitely isn’t root beer. “Let me help you,” she pleads, watching the way he seems to soften a bit and set the bottle down. She grabs it, shocked at how light it is. “How much did you drink?”

 

“Enough,” is all he says as she slowly moves the sleeve from his arm. The marks are fresh and deeper than she’s ever seen them. “Why do you do this?” He asks as if he’s not sure why she’s here. That when she said  _ she’d be there for him,  _ she meant it. “What?” 

 

“Help me,” He says, looking down at the arm he’d torn up. Still glistening slightly with undried blood. “Because I’m your friend Marcus.”   
  


“Why? I’m not worth being friends with,  _ I’m nothing. _ ” 

 

_ Present day _

 

At the time she thought it was the worst he’d ever been, but it was just the start. For a year she watched him spiral out of control then he hit rock bottom and almost lost his life because of it. She’d been helpless to stop it, just slow the progress, until his father left, and he never saw him again.  _ That was when she stepped in,  _ picking him up and putting him back on his feet,  _ literally and metaphorically.  _ There had a been a few relapses, minor incidents but by the second year he’d stabilized.  _ That’s when they bought the apartment.  _

 

It felt like she was rediscovering hell, except this time care and kind words weren’t going to do anything. There was too much middle ground and she hadn’t the slightest idea how to cut it out.   _ Unless…..  _

 

*******

 

She’s in her element, calm cool and collected, every sense heightened to a nearly painful peak. Her black heels clicked steadily on the floor, the sound echoing off the walls.  _ The walls of AreoCorp headquarters. _ Her hair is down and an elegant mess of loose curls. The dress she wears is tight, accentuating the curves of her body. She turns heads  _ and lots of them. _ The overly observant receptionist had immediately pointed her towards the floor ‘Mr.Griffin’ was on without her even asking.

 

His office was dark and unoccupied. Figuring her life had essentially become this year's biggest action movie and the move fit. She sat in his large rolling desk chair with the back turned towards the door, like some cheesy villain. 

 

It didn’t take long for the door to open, she assumed one of his many assistants informed him of her arrival. Abby spun around in the chair, lowering her voice to an almost whisper. “Hello, Mr.Griffin.” 

 

“If you’re here to see him, it’s not happening so don’t even-” Abby cuts him off with a raised hand. “I’m not here to see Kane, I’m here to see  _ you.” _ She drags her bottom lip through her teeth, almost caressing his body with her eyes. Jake’s eyes do the same, lingering a little longer here and there. “Ice?” he asks, gesturing to a shelf of imported liquors and two glasses. “Please.” He pours the drink, extending it out to her but not stepping forward. It’s a cheap move to get her closer but she obliges him anyway. Jake drapes his suit jacket over a nearby chair, inviting her to sit. “So why did you want to see me?” She takes a slow sip of the bitter alcohol, not wincing at the familiar burn running down her throat. Wine was good, but it had never been her favorite. “I want in.” He gives her a dumb look like he hasn’t any idea what she’s talking about. “I’m not an idiot Jake, did you really think I wouldn’t be able to get him to spill anything about your little operation. The only reason it’s not plastered on the front page of every paper within 50 miles is because I want in.” He eyes her over the rim of his cup, studying her expression for signs of dishonesty. A tactic she’s well familiar with from interviewing other ‘businessmen’ like him. “Excuse me for being skeptical, but last time we saw each other you were ready to die for him,  _ what changed?” _ She rolled the chair closer to his, leaning her head on her hand and smiling fondly. “It wasn’t  _ real _ Jake, it was a front, I needed pictures and information for my articles.” A wide smile turns his lips, almost like he’s proud. “What about at the gala, you seemed to be very…... _ interested.” _ She lets a wry grin slip across her face, tilting her head a bit. “You have to work to get the things you want Jake.” He stands up suddenly, the chair jolting back a bit. He puts his hands on both armrests of her chair, trapping her between the back and him. “And what is it you want Abby? Hmmm?”  Abby’s hands inch their way from his arms, to his shoulders, and then clasped behind his neck, levering herself up and into his arms. “I missed you,” she whispers softly into his ear, nipping at it. His hands gripped her waist, hard enough she’d have bruises in the morning.

 

Jake kissed and nipped the soft skin of her neck, exactly the way he used to. She let her head lean to the side, exposing more of the skin he couldn’t stop kissing. Quickly, he had her pressed against the wall, her hands splayed on his back more from surprise than desire. Jake growled in her ear when she moved against him, pressing her into the wall further. His hands scramble for the zip of her dress but she stills them, pushing him back a bit. “I like where your head is but aren’t you supposed to buy me a drink first?” He’s breathing hard, much harder than she is and it makes the words catch in his throat for a bit. “I did get you a drink.” It’s almost a whine and she sighs, pushing from his embrace a bit more. “That one was free, it doesn’t count.” She steps out all the way, picking up her handbag and slinging it onto her shoulder. “Think about it, front page is a good place for you.” She presses a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth and walks out. The ghost of Jake Griffin’s touch all over her body. It makes her feel…


	15. Mostly yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything works out, I do actually have a plan

She presses a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth and walks out. The ghost of Jake Griffin’s touch all over her body. It makes her feel… _ sick. _ She feels incredibly sick, not with betrayal but the taste and feel of him makes her nauseous. She finds the nearest receptacle and heaves up what little she’d eaten at breakfast. “You okay there Abs?” A voice crackles in her ear. “Yeah, I’m good it’s just….. _ god he tastes awful.” _ She can hear Raven laughing through her earpiece. “Well, I’m sure once we get Kane out he’ll be happy to put a new taste in your mouth.” Abby laughs at the joke, despite it deepening the fear that’s threatening to choke the life out of her.  _ What if we don’t get him out? What if one of us gets caught?  _ She can’t, however, give into these thoughts, for the moment she lets doubt in it will become truth. 

 

Sinclair, disguised as her driver, opens the door of the black sedan greeting her with a tip of his hat. Raven peaks her head out from the front seat, still wearing her earpiece and microphone. “Was he at least  _ good? _ ” Sinclair sighs and pulls out, giving the girl a long look. Abby shakes her head and smoothes out her dress, hoping it might get rid of the lingering feel of his hands. “Well, we got you this.” Raven passes her a bag and when she opens it, a bubbly laugh can’t help but escape her. Inside is a toothbrush, mouthwash, and a tube of toothpaste. “Okay, can we go over the rest of the plan,” she asks, wiping the last bit of toothpaste from her mouth. “Well, did you plant the bug?”

 

“Yeah, it’s on his tie, and before you say anything, he wears that tie  _ everywhere, _ it’s like an extension of him.” She shudders a bit, recalling the moment she trapped that strip of fabric between her thumb and pointer (planting the tracking device) and used it pull him back down to her lips. “Alright, what about that article, we won’t be able to get in with a calm public he’s big on his image, research and PR were equal staffed.” 

 

“It’s ready to go but I can’t publish it without blowing my cover, we’re going to have to find another way to get it out there.” Sinclair shakes his head, turning off the main street and down towards the industrial district. “That’s the largest paper in the city, it _ has  _ to be there. Is there anyone else you can think of who would do it?” A number of new reporters pop into her mind, but she’s not entirely trusting of them. Most are still in that stage where anything they do needs Jaha’s approval. “Turn right here, I know just the person.” 

 

Callie’s skeptical at first, but the more she talks and explains all they know about Jake and his company the more she seems to relax. It’s not until Abby gets to Marcus that things start to go south. “You’re telling me that…… you’re boyfriend…..  _ Is a superhero?” _

 

“Exactly!” Raven chimes in, “on a side note without me he’d still be an idiot in a bandana.” Sinclair redirects her, putting the girl’s attention back on the computer virus they’ll need. “If he’s the superhero…. Does that make you the damsel in distress?” Callie laughs and Abby slaps her arm playfully. “He’s actually pretty good at playing both parts,” she says jokingly, keeping the conversation as light as she can. Callie’s face still darkens, worry clouding her normally bright expressions. “Abby, _ where is he?” _ She takes a deep breath, steeling herself to force the words out into the open. “As far as we know…..prison.” She feels Callie tangle their fingers together, resting them on the seat between. “What can I do?” 

 

“Trash the hell out of AC and probably start a few riots, we need to create a distraction big enough to allow us to slip in and get him out.” The little gasp Raven makes and Sinclair’s gritted intake of breath make her pause. “That  _ is  _ the plan  _ right?” _

 

“Most of it yes,” she can see him wince like he can feel the burning stare she’s boring in the back of his head. “What do you mean  _ most of it?”  _ Callie’s arm shoots out to hold her in her seat, she wasn’t going to lash out at Sinclair but safety first. “We’re not at the part where we can break him out yet, we need more time, more information. If we get him out now it would be interfering with police actions, on the off chance we fail we’d all be sent to prison and of no use. I’m sorry.” Abby sags in her seat, hating herself for thinking that could possibly be true but knowing it is. “We’ll do what we can now and worry about the rest later,” Callie says, gripping Abby’s hand tighter. She lets her head drop to Callie’s shoulder, relaxing in the comforting embrace of a best friend.

 

*******

 

He’d been thrown in a cell, _literally_ and had been there ever since biding time building his strength and thinking. Thinking too much about too many things to the point he’d worked his body to exhaustion, forcing his mind to shut down. Jake looks smug, _incredibly smug._ Like he finally won whatever war they’d been waging since childhood. “I see you finally took that damn contraption off, it’s bad manners to not be able to see someone's eyes during conversation.” He doesn’t dignify him with a response, just avoids making eye contact. “For Shame Marcus, didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners.” The mention of his mother puts a snarl on his lips and his body twitches with the urge to just knock him flat. “Oh dear, how rude of me I’ve forgotten she’s dead,” he shrugs, smirking as he says, “Casualties of war.” Marcus lunges forward, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket through the bars, slamming him forward. “ _You bastard! You had her killed!”_ Blood dripped from the wound where his head had connected with the metal. He shouted for guards and two appeared at his sides, trying to break his grip. He was so focused on pulling Jake _through_ the bars he didn’t hear a door opening behind him. He’s slammed forward so suddenly he lets go, watching Jake stumble backward. The disorientation only lasts for a moment but it’s enough for his wrists to be roughly zip-tied to the bars, he can feel a syringe pricking at his neck but not piercing the skin. “Keep him awake,” Jake barks and the needle moves from his skin. He wipes the blood from his brow, it’ll leave an impressive mark, _maybe even a scar._ The sinister part of Marcus’ mind wants it to scar, so he’ll at least have something nice to look at. “I’ve got so much more to tell you about…. How well my plan is going, how easy it was to brainwash the entire police force,” the Cheshire smirk on his face grows and his tone lowers. _“How exhilarating it is to kiss Abby,_ something I feel we’ll be able to discuss in length.” White hot anger fills him, a rage so great his arm curls around his neck, smashing Jake’s face into the bars once more, having snapped the plastic tie around his wrist. More guards free Jake from his grip once more as he starts spitting unthinkable curses and insults. “Shut him up!” The men holding him grunt in agreement and another wicked syringe carelessly enters his neck. _He goes down instantly,_ body hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

 

One that Abby can hear, crystal clear through the listening device on the underside of Jake’s striped tie. She feels sick again but stays rooted firmly in her chair, Callie close by her side and gasping along with Raven.  _ They heard everything. _ The worst part though was the small pause before Marcus went ballistic. Abby could  _ feel _ the hurt that had to have displayed on his face. 

 

For a while all you could hear was the chatter of some nurse tending to Jake’s injuries, commending him on his bravery for getting this close to such a  _ criminal. _ Then a frantic sound voice cut through after a long stretch of pounding footsteps. “Sir, you’re needed in the control room.”

 

“What for?”

 

“It’s hell outside, someone’s linked the teens back to us.” At this Raven smiles, then even brighter as Jake lets out a very colorful string of curses. 

 

It had been her to think of hacking into the law enforcement database and looking through the missing person file for anyone connected to  _ AreoCorp _ , and there had been a lot. Nearly 400 kids between the ages of 15 and 20 had been reported missing in the last 3 years (exactly how long Jake had been running the company.) They’d then polished off Abby and Callie’s article with even more slightly exaggerated but ultimately true violations and abominations surrounding the corporation. Running from environmental infractions to counts of nearly all types of harassment. Then, with help from Raven and Sinclair, spread them like wildfire over every media type they could reach. It had put a riot worthy crowd outside of the building in a matter of hours. Parents demanding answers and justice for their children. Minor and major Environmental agencies shouting rally cries and waving signs calling for the downfall of the ‘ _ tyrannical’ _ company. 

 

 

_ That was the easy part, _ they still needed to find someone to infiltrate the building when the time came. “So we’re looking for sneaky, strong and overall determined right?” Raven asks a tad bit of amusement coloring her voice. “Yes…” The girl smiles brightly, grabbing her phone and flopping on the couch. “I know just the person!”

 

*******

 

This isn’t at all who they expected. When Raven had described their  _ perfect  _ spy, none of them pictured a dark haired girl clad in dark jeans and a leather jacket. Wielding a set of wicked looking knives. “Guys, this is Octavia Blake, our infiltrator.” Abby gasped, calling forth memories of those same deep blue eyes peering at her from her brother’s arms. She can’t help but wrap the now 15-year-old girl into her arms and hold her tight. Not caring how tense the embrace makes her. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby.” Octavia gently untangles herself from the hug, placing Abby’s arms at her sides and raising an eyebrow at Raven. “Oh, I should’ve figured you wouldn’t remember, Marcus and I babysat you and your brother.” At the mention of her brother Octavia, frowns and Sinclair explains that her brother was taken and is under Jake’s control. “So, I get in, get the  _ natwotcha  _ out and together we beat Griffin’s ass into the ground, and free Bellamy. Am I correct?”

 

“Mostly yes,” Octavia frowns, one that Abby remembers quite fondly. “Our objective is to get Kane out and regroup here to take down the corporation in a few days time.” Octavia takes one of the knives from her belt twirling it in what seems to be a stress habit. “If I’m going in, I’m getting Bellamy out he’s been in there long enough.”

 

“That can’t happen.”

 

_ “Why not?” _ She barks, eyes flaring with anger and distrust. She only calms when an older looking man lays a hand on her shoulder. Followed by a similar but even older looking woman. Both covered in what she knows are Trikru tattoos. “Still haven’t told Bellamy you're in a gang yet?”  Raven jokes, nudging Octavia with her shoulder. “Well, he’s been a zombie for the past year and a half so I haven’t really had the chance to run it by him.” 

 

Sinclair closes up the meeting, showing all their guests the rooms they’ll be staying in. One by one, (or two in Octavia and the older man’s case) they all disappear for a night of rest. Abby stays up, sitting on the couch and running the plan over and over in her mind. Looking for weaknesses and strengths, and mostly thinking about their team.

 

Two reporters, two teenagers, two gang members, and a high-ranking engineer. She hopes it's enough because if not…..she cuts the thought off there, refusing to even consider defeat. Instead, choosing to recline back on the couch, slowly letting herself drift into a dream. 


	16. Get out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while but I had family stuff and traveling and just plain old brain deadedness.

She couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard she tried. That short little bout she had was all she got, and with the dreams that accompanied it,  _ she wouldn’t want to go back.  _ At some point, she’d been carried to her room and laid atop the covers with another spare blanket draped over her with care. Silently, she slipped out of bed and crept back into the lab, finding Raven hunched over her computer. “What’s up?” She asks, startling the girl upright. “I can’t sleep thinking there  is more I could be doing to help.” Raven rubs a hand down her face, typing something more on her laptop. “ She doesn’t know how they met or what the girl thinks she owes Marcus but it’s clear a great friendship had formed between them. “I just can’t think of anything.” She doesn’t know how to comfort her, there’s too much turbulence within her to help with anyone else’s but that doesn’t stop a rather rash idea from forming in her mind. “What if there is something you could do……. right here from your computer.” Raven looks at her with wide eyes, filled with hope after these last days without a trace. “Pull up the police database and give me recent arrest warrants, I have an idea.”   
  


*******

 

Mayor Woods walked swiftly up the steps of the capitol building, flanked by her security. The week had been hell what with all the riots and outrage surrounding information leaked on  _ AreoCorp.  _ In all honesty, she wanted to be rid of the company as much as her people did but just didn’t see it possible. 

 

A woman- no a reporter- calls after her excitedly, probably looking for her opinion on all the allegations facing their latest headline. The guards on her left and right block the woman but out of respect she turns anyway ready to deny her involvement. “Ms. Mayor, are you aware that your city's very own superhero is being held illegally in the bottom of AC towers?” This catches her attention and she takes a closer look at the woman, she has no camera, no microphone, not even a notepad.  _ She’s not here for an opinion or statement.  _ She gently shoves Nico and Gustus aside, making it easier to speak directly to the woman. “Do you have a backing for this information.” The woman swallows thickly, rubbing nervously the fabric of her sweater. “Audio recordings of his interrogations and eyewitness accounts of his capture.” She doubles back a bit, not expecting any follow through from an under-equipped newspaper lady. “He’s being held without proper warrant and I have reason to believe your entire police force is either brainwashed or highly corrupted….If you’d allow me I’d like to sit down and help you end all of this, for lack of a better word, _ bullshit.” _ The Mayor extends her hand, and the reporter shakes it. “I can’t agree to anything so hastily but show me good evidence and you can call me an ally.” A fire of hope sparks behind the woman’s eyes and Lexa knows there’s a deeper connection between the reporter and the  _ natwotcha  _ than simply something to write about.

 

*******

 

The fact of the matter was she needed more evidence, concrete proof for her upcoming meeting with the Mayor. The more troubling thing was, she had a way to get it,  _ she just despised every second spent in his company. _

 

It doesn’t help that he doesn’t even bother with greetings; just shoves her roughly against his office door and attacks her neck with his mouth. She pushes him away gently enough to hide her discomfort, whispering “Business first, fun later.” He takes a closer look at her and notices the black framed glasses resting on her nose as she pushes them up. “I didn’t know you had glasses.”

 

“Ran out of contacts,” she shrugs, hoping he doesn’t examine them further and notice the miniature video camera incorporated into the arm. “I have to ask, and I don’t mean to accuse, but did you have anything to do with the leaks?” 

 

“Jake, I came to you looking for a partner, why would I try to destroy the biggest opportunity I’ve had in ages.” Jake looks at her with a burning stare, one that makes her skin crawl and hands shake. “Poor planning.” 

 

“When have you ever known me to be a poor planner?” He shrugs, giving her an odd smirk while shoving his hands into his pockets. Abby grabs a chair sitting and bringing her hand up to fidget with the uncomfortable glasses. Secretly switching on the recording. “So tell me, what is it exactly that you do here?” He smirks again, relaxing in the chair opposite her. “Research and design, engineering, it says it all right on the box.” She leans forward, both hands cupping her chin, elbows on knees. “I’ve heard plenty from Kane, but I want the whole story…. _ from you. _ ” He considers her for a moment, she can see the turmoil in his eyes. The way he’s not quite sure if he can trust her after all these years. She doesn’t blame him, turnarounds like that don’t exist often. “We create the future….imagine a world without war. Full of order, discipline,  _ perfection. _ A world where people can coexist without destruction and violence.”

 

“And how exactly do you create this better world?” A look that reads as apprehension washes over his features, forcing his stare downwards once more. “Good can come out of even the darkest acts.” Abby frowns, appraising the almost pensive tone he’d taken on. “That doesn’t answer my question, how will you do it?” He shakes his head, like a parent would when a child does something silly. “I can’t just simply  _ tell you,  _ a plan like this requires visual.”

 

*******

 

His throat is parched and his wrists ached from where he snapped the ties. He hasn’t eaten and the only amount water he’d got came from a leak in the roof that was now patched. It hurt and it downright sucked, but it was bearable pain wasn’t a stranger and he would sooner die than give his captor the satisfaction of seeing him break. 

 

He heard pairs of footsteps clicking down the hall and he assumed it was time for him to become just another one of Jake’s mutts. Until he listens closer, takes the sound apart within his mind. It’s a distinct little click, sharp and clear, and steady almost like the person making it is forcing themself to a steady pace.  _ It’s heels, _ the steady click-clack of a pair of heels. It was close enough now that he could make out hushed voices mixed in with little laughs and giggles and the undeniable smack of a searing kiss. 

 

It’s not until the voices round the corner does Marcus realize that he’s never felt this much pain in the entirety of his life than when one Abigail Walters looks at him like some pet in the window of a shop from the arm of Jake Griffin.

 

 

It’s like something inside him rips out and he wants to scream and let the tears pricking in his eyes fall, but he at the same time he feels a white hot anger that yearns to inflict unimaginable pain on the man before him. 

 

Like a dull knife pinpointing the most sensitive parts of his body and methodically and slowly ripping him apart. He lets the pain and the anger and every little feeling in between flash onto his face. Each one quickly swallowed up by the next in a torturous cycle. He let’s show because she’s the only good thing left in his life and their entire history just crumbled at his feet.  _ It’s like the universe is screaming the biggest fuck you he’s ever seen. _

 

All while she looks at him like a falcon in a cage. A fierce predator contained by metal bars. Something to admire, something to keep, _ something to use. _

 

*******

She hates this. Because she has to watch the confusion, then the hurt, the anger, the disgust and finally the almost imperceptible slump in his shoulders as she breaks his heart. 

 

She hates this. Having to bite back the tears, to keep from crashing her body against his to bury her nose in the crook of his neck. Hates having to look at him like every moment she spent in his arms and thoughts was one big lie.

 

She wants to give him a smile, one that would tell him it’s okay, that  _ she still loves him. _ That she never stopped, that she’s going to get him out and everything’s going to be okay. But Jake’s watching her like a hawk so instead; she smiles like the coyote who finally caught the Roadrunner.

 

He looks at her with a slack jawed and glassy eyes, and she’s forced to watch him shrink into the corner of his concrete prison curled into a ball. One tear carving a path through the grime on his face. 

 

“You thought I was kidding didn’t you.” Is all Jake says, before guiding her away with a hand on the small of her back. His touch burns, and in the least pleasant of ways. 

 

*******

 

She climbs into the same car she did the last time, just with the addition of Octavia in the seat next to her. “Tell me somewhere in that mess you swiped the building plans?” She groans in a highly annoyed manner. Raven swats her on the leg, having confidence in her friend's pick-pocketing abilities. Which, not that she’d ever admit it, Abby was increasingly skilled in theft without a trace. “Yeah, I got it. You really think I’d go through….. _ all that,  _ and not get what we came for?” Octavia grumbles in something that definitely isn’t English and Raven swats her again. Saying something that’s probably offensive back in the same strange tongue. 

 

The girls continue bickering until Abby shoves the glasses cam at Raven, telling her to extract the video files and transfer them to her thumb drive. Then asks Sinclair to drop her off at city hall. She gets out, nearly throwing the building plans Octavia shouts for back into the car before running up the steps. She’s nearly late but Mayor Woods doesn’t ask, just pulls out a laptop when she breathlessly gestures to the drive. 

 

On it, are decently detailed explanations and visuals of every possible illegal experiment going on inside that hell-hole of a company. Lexa, as she’d been told to call her, looks horrified. “Three years,” she mutters, closing the laptop slowly. “He’s been creating an army of children right under my nose,  _ for three years.” _

 

“You couldn’t have known,” Abby says, in what she hopes is a comforting tone. Lexa Woods was an excellent leader, listening to the voices of all her people. To find out that she had been unawares of some of the youngest of them being tortured and manipulated must be crushing. The shock subsides quickly, turning to something between anger and the lust for well-executed revenge. “You may have your alliance, this corporation will fall and the people freed. Now, tell me what you’ll need.”

 

*******

 

“You remember the plan, you have your map, is the earpiece secure, you have the special cloth.” Octavia gave her a glare that screamed a very sarcastic ‘ _ yes, mom.’ _  They’d gone over the plan at least ten times at breakfast, more and lunch and  _ even more _ at dinner. Now as the sun set and the drove to where Octavia would be making her entrance, they’d gone over it  _ again, _ she imagined it being burned into the girl’s mind forever. The map was tucked into the back of her jeans and the complicated radio earpiece/camera was placed carefully and adjusted to fit her head. 

 

When she can’t take the worried stares and the palpable concern, Octavia whirls around from the front seat and glared heatedly. “Guys…. _ I’ve got this _ , I’ve been training for a gig like this for 3 years.” Then she jumps out and darts off to the vent, ripping it from the wall with the tools strapped to her waist. Then disappears inside it. 

 

It’s a maze in there, as Octavia describes it struggling to read the map and crawl at the same time in such a tight space. Raven, and  _ thank God for Raven, _ had the foresight to make a copy and guides Octavia through the shafts until they can hear the  _ thud  _ of boots on concrete. “Target in sight,” she whispers, and the sound of an acetylene torch melting the door lock crackles through the radio.

 

*******

 

The sound of fire and a soft clink startle him awake. A shadowy figure hovers over him, hand outstretched to touch him and he backs up the last few inches he can into the corner. “Who are you? What are you doing?” He hisses defensively, ready to fight if it comes to that. “My name doesn’t matter, but I’m here to save your ass courtesy of your girlfriend.” A deep set frown tugs his lips into a thin line. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he whispers bitterly. 

 

She flicks his ear  _ hard _ , and he yelps in surprise. “You’re an idiot,  _ Raven said he was an idiot….. _ she’s not playing you she’s playing  _ him. _ So shut down your pity party and get off your ass, your  _ girlfriend  _ is waiting.” Marcus hates that he’s wary of the information, but gets up anyway. Thinking that even if it  _ isn’t  _ true, he could at least get out of the damn cell. Until he hears soft voices and the sound of more boots.  _ The night guard rotation.  _

 

He freezes and presses himself back into the cell, pulling the mystery kid with him and smothering her resulting growl with his hand. He motions for her to be quiet with a finger to his lips and removes his hand, praying that the guards overlook them. That they don’t notice the extra body in his cell.  _ That he can just get out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really sad to say it, but we're getting close to the end now.


	17. That'll do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to read the bottom notes they are IMPORTANT! but AFTER you read the chapter otherwise it ruins everything okay? Don't be a cheek and read them before that's cheating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

He makes them as small as he can. Barely breath,s doesn’t move. Just stands and waits as the steps grow closer and closer. 

 

The pair passes without even so much as a glance and he wants to laugh in relief, but instead, takes a greedy but silent breath. Until, at last, they couldn’t hear the sound of boots on hard ground, just their labored breathing. The girl wriggles from his hold uncomfortably, checking the hallway for any unwanted visitors. “Let’s go,” she orders and he, drops into a crouch and presses himself against the wall as they stalk towards an exit. He’s desperate for information. To know the truth. To know if he still holds her heart, because she’s always had his. These thoughts make his mind wander, distant from the task at hand. Which is how he walks right into the back of young guard who whirls around with weapon drawn and the barrel pointed right at his heart. 

 

Marcus believes that he’s done for, that in less than a second the hammer will strike the primer and his life will be over. Hot brass ripping through his most vital of organs. Without really thinking he closes his eyes and accepts his fate, only to snap them open to the sound of a limp body hitting the floor.    
  


Octavia cradles the guards head in her lap, stroking his dark curls and kissing his freckled cheek. “ _ Bellamy,”  _ she croaks, and the dots fall into place. “ _ Octavia?”  _ He asks and she looks up at him with that fierce determination she’d showed him the first time she’d attempted to walk. “Help me get him up,” she commands and just by the authority in her tone does he listen and pick the boy up. He knew Bellamy was lean, he always had been, but his lightness is frightening. Needless to say, he doesn’t worry Octavia with that piece of information. Just follows her until she holds up a hand to bring him to an abrupt halt, his muscles are burning with the exertion of carrying a nearly full grown man and Marcus rests the limp boy on the ground gently. Octavia is seemingly arguing with herself on which of the 3 different tunnels ahead of them to take. “ _ Dammit, just tell me which one?” _

 

_ “ _ Yes, I have him god dammit.”

 

“ _ Jok em,” _ she whispers before committing to the path furthest to the right. As he scrambles to pick Bellamy up again, he finds himself getting more and more desperate to hear a certain three words from the woman he so desperately loves.

 

*******

 

“They have Bellamy,” Raven exclaims, a lot louder than necessary. Marcus’ near silence was worrying, she’d heard everything as the comms system was hooked up to the SUV’s speakers. They didn’t have a video feed this time, things like that were too easy to tap into and put a risk to the entire operation. Something she refused to even think about, no matter how much she  _ needed _ to see his face. Praying that it was as full of hope as she needed it to be. Because in times like these,  _ hope is everything.  _

 

She keeps waiting in tense silence, tapping her foot and looking anxiously from the windshield to the ventilation shaft. Over and over and  _ over again. “ _ Enough!” Raven shrieks, startling both adults. “You,” she points at Sinclair, “Stop hovering over my shoulder, and you,” she says looking at Abby only a bit more sympathetic. “Please stop stationary pacing, I can’t handle the constant worried look on your face.” Abby just looks down at her feet until Raven turns back to her work before resuming her worried stares. They’ve been gone too long, it had only taken a few minutes for Octavia’s feet to hit the ground on the inside, even with Bellamy it shouldn’t take this long. She should see him, she should be able to hear him, at least  _ something. _

 

But nothing came, it was just waiting. Horrible awful waiting, sitting idle in the car without the faintest idea what was occurring. 

 

*******

 

“Do you know where you’re going?” He asks a breathlessly, he’s been carrying the dead weight of Bellamy Agustus Blake for the last ten minutes and even in top physical condition is a struggle. “Yes,” she bites back, making another turn into a dead end hallway. She stops and kneels down in front of a large grate, fiddling with something he can’t see in the dark. “What are you doing, we need to keep moving towards an exit?” A bright flame illuminates her face as she begins cutting through the duct plate. “Why find an exit when we can  _ make one? _ ” The grate falls opening with a loud clang that makes him wince, expecting the sound of more boots to come rushing down the hall. “Now what are  _ you  _ doing, we need to get out of here?” Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Marcus climbs into the shaft to haul Bellamy in with him.

 

It’s not long, or very far, of crawling that it starts to get hot. He was already sweating from exertion, now it dripped down his back and made his skin glisten. He felt  _ disgusting, _ but even as he dragged the somehow still unconscious boy along his thoughts still lingered on Abby. Where she was, what she was doing, and the truth in everything that had happened over the last few days. It made him distracted,  _ once again. _ His body continued crawling but his mind didn’t go with it, inch by inch until…

 

_ Smack!  _

 

His head connects with the plate covering their escape, burning the skin slightly. Octavia had already handed him the torch to cut through once more. It only makes the space hotter and even more uncomfortable until he gets through and is able to push the metal panel out, drawing in a burst of crisp air.

 

*******

 

The loud clang of metal hitting the ground honestly scares the shit out of her, but then the armored form of Marcus Kane drops out of the side of the building and she nearly cries in relief. Having spent the entire time worrying over the possible recapture and unknown fate of Marcus and Octavia, and now as she can see his limp form being pulled from the hole in the wall,  _ Bellamy.  _

 

She walked up carefully, his back was to her and the last thing she wanted to do was scare him. Raven made a noise that was half groan and something else she couldn’t quite tell, but it did its job of getting Marcus’ attention. His gaze fell on her instantly and it was as if waves of every emotion spilled off him and crashed into her body. Spilling the tears that had been threatening to fall from the moment Octavia disappeared into the building. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. She jumps when his arms encircle her and only sobs harder at how tense it makes him. She hugs him closer to her body as his own tears roll down her neck and into the fabric of her shirt, soaking it. She whispers she loves him and the bloom of hope and adoration that explodes into his cocoa-colored eyes makes her hate that he believed she ever stopped. 

 

He looks at her with so many different things that make her heart swell in her chest that she just can’t help but rise up and press her lips firmly to his. His arms pull her impossibly closer at the first contact and she melts into his embrace. Kissing him with every ounce of passion her exhausted mind could muster. Hands tangled in hair and tongues dueled for dominance as the kiss turned messy in the best possible of ways. Only when Raven starts whistling and clapping and Octavia makes gagging sounds do they break apart, resting their foreheads together. “As much as I’m glad you two lovebirds are happily reunited, is it really the greatest idea to make out in the enemy’s camp?” Marcus’ head drops his head to her shoulder and lets out a breathy relieved laugh into the skin of her neck. His hot breath making her shiver. It takes one last sweet kiss before Abby can convince herself to take him by the hand and him into the car. 

 

*******

  
  


“He’s really still asleep?” Raven asks, poking Bellamy’s cheek. “Be glad for it, he will be most unpleasant when he does wake up,” Lincoln adds, stepping away from Octavia to observe the boys body. Abby walked in from the lab, a strange concoction and a syringe in hand. She filled the tube with the liquid and flicked the needle, Marcus winced and looked away. “Ready to talk to your brother again O?” She nodded and Abby gently slid the point into Bellamy’s arm, using the plunger to push the liquid into his body. As soon as the needle left his body Bellamy surged up, eyes scanning the room frantically until they settled on Marcus. A growl ripped free from his throat as the teen turned soldier charged the man. Panicking, Marcus reached a hand behind his back until he felt the solid weight of his shock baton jump to his hand. Once in range, Marcus dodged the boy’s careless attack, giving only enough of a shock to knock him out. “Well so much for talking,” Octavia said dryly. Most likely shocked at her brother’s sudden outburst of rage. “Lincoln, Sinclair, I think it’d be best if he’s put in a room or place where he can hurt anyone until I can figure out how to help him.” Lincoln and Sinclair carry Bellamy to the back of the living areas with Octavia close behind. Abby walks up, intending to bury her nose in the crook of his neck, only to reel back when a very un-Marcus-like smell washes over her. “ _ God you smell, _ ” she whispers, unable to suppress a laugh at the pouty frown adorning his features. “Captivity does wonders for the body,” he smirks, flexing and making her giggle. “Go shower before you stink up the entire place.” Reluctantly, he follows her orders with one last short kiss, even if he smells like death she gives into it only to shove him away playfully when he tickles her side.

 

*******

 

As the hot water rolled down his back, washing away the dirt and filth along with some of the guilt, his mind stayed on the thoughts stayed with her, as they always seemed to be. The thought of finally being able to hold her, cradling her to his chest and breathing in the warm honey-sweet scent that she always carried. It relaxed him enough he was forced to sit on the cold tiles to avoid falling over. Until his mind drifted further, and fleeting images of a little black box and sparkling light crowd his mind, nearly sending him into a panic. 

 

Breathing deeply, he brought his heart rate down and reigned in his thoughts, things later that could be sorted later. After this was over, because like it or not he was _ - _ no  _ they were  _ going to finish what they started. He couldn’t do this alone and it was time to stop trying.

After toweling off, he slips into boxers and a pair of shorts, standing in the doorway of their bedroom. His appreciation of her believed to be sleeping form lasts mere seconds as she beckons him closer with just a wave of her hand. He slides in behind her, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her as tight as he can without hurting. Fulfilling his wandering mind and letting her heavenly scent wash over and soothe him.

 

It all hits him in an instant, the trauma, the pain,  _ everything. _ Making his body shake and quiver with silent sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers like a mantra. She turns in his arms and wraps hers around his back. Humming a lullaby and petting his hair, trying to be as soothing as possible without speaking. 

 

They’ve done this too many times, the apologizing back and forth, and she knows if she tells him he has nothing to be sorry for, that it wasn’t his fault. It will continue in a cycle and she thinks, that if maybe just for tonight, she lets him make his penance without interruption it will ease his mind. She thinks that’s enough, for now, they need sleep, the deep kind only found when at peace.

 

_ That’ll do, _ her mind says as her eyes drift shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get you with the fake I'm sorry if not, boo  
> If yes, sorry not sorry, real talk, just a warning the next chapter may take quite a while to come out as I have special plans for special things that I have a *special* relationship with. aka I struggle with writing what I plan and I'm not even sure if I do or don't want it in the next chapter but either way, if it takes a hella long time you know why and can't silently be mad. I mean you can, you can also do it loudly but. You.Have.Been.Warned.


	18. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, rating goes up to somewhere between T and M, it's not really bad because I'm hella cringy and so is this. Just fyi, if your not in for the cringe this chapter has basically zero plot value so it's totally skippable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have actual plot and a normal word count

There were many things about Marcus Kane she’d missed. Things sentimental and cute like his smile, or the way his eyes light up when he laughs. Except, right now, she’s not feeling anything  _ close _ to sentimental or cute. 

 

Not with his hands sneaking under the material or her shirt and tracing patterns on her hip. Not with the hot little open mouthed kisses, nips, and licks he covers her throat with, paying extra attention to the throbbing point of her neck where she knows he’ll leave a bright blue-purple bruise for everyone to see. 

 

It’s exquisite, the things he can do to her with simple movements, the soft little sighs and breathy exclamations he can draw from her are like to music to his ears. They’re pressed so close it takes just the smallest movement of her body to draw similar sounds, deep groans and heavy sighs against her skin. It’s  _ amazing, _ truly, but it’s also not enough.

 

Her hands grip the hem of his shirt and tug, removing the offending garment bit by bit. Marcus has her pinned tightly to the bedroom wall, which makes undressing him that much harder. “ _ Off,” _ she tugs on the material again and he withdraws completely. She almost whimpers, missing the heat of his body instantly. “Eager,” he laughs, removing his shirt and tossing it…. _ somewhere, _ far beyond caring where it lands.”You Started it,” she breaths running her hands down his toned chest feeling the muscles ripple under her touch. He plants his hands on either side of her head, leaning in to capture her lips. “Does that mean I have to finish it?” He says, breathing the words into her body.  It’s sloppy but perfect, and the low moan Marcus makes when she pulls his bottom lip between her teeth and  _ bites, _  sends shivers down her spine and makes desire coil tight in her belly. 

 

He keeps kissing her, letting part his lips with her tongue, giving her some semblance of control. All without touching her with anything but his mouth and it's  _ torture.  _ She hooks two fingers of each hand into his belt loops and  _ pulls,  _ crashing his body into hers. Her arms wrap around his body and her nails rake down his back, leaving marks of her own. His hands slide from her shoulders to her backside, cupping it and hoisting her up. Surprised by the act, her hands scrabbled for purchase and her legs clamp around his waist. Rubbing against his growing hardness and making a deep groan rumble low in his chest. She rolls her hips, attempting to relieve the rising pressure between them. He just growls and holds her to the wall with his hips, hands pushing the fabric of her shirt to her shoulders. It gets stuck on her head when he tries to slip it off and she has to extract her hands from his hair to help him slip it off. His head drops to her shoulder and his resulting laugh tickles the skin of her neck. 

 

Using her free hand, she pushes them off the wall and towards the bed. His knees hit the edge of the mattress and he falls back, Abby landing on his chest and knocking the air out of his lungs. She collapses in a fit of giggles as he struggles to move air into his body. “You know, I thought we were better at this,” she says, kissing him slowly. “Ye of little faith.” She just hums, deepening the kiss and tangling her hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently. Their kisses get messier and messier as do their movements. Desperately looking for more friction, more pleasure, more  _ contact. _

 

He flips them effortlessly, lips attaching firmly to her collarbone. His hands find the clasp of her bra, only to pause and look down at her, a question in his eyes. She kisses him softly as the garment comes off. 

 

His mouth finds one peaked nipple and lavishes it with his tongue while his hand travels south and she’s _gone._ Absent except for the small lift of her hips as he tugs her jeans and panties off. Lost to the sensation of his talented hands and mouth. 

 

Lost as intense waves of heat and blinding pleasure crested and overcame her. Pulling breathy exclamations of his name from her lips. He rolls to the side, resting his head on her chest and wrapping his arms around her still shaking body. “And to think you doubted me,” he says teasingly. “Shut up Marcus,” she says, swatting him on the chest. 

 

She moves to hook a leg over his and the denim of his jeans rubs against her very bare skin. “Marcus,” She warns, “take off the stupid jeans.” The look he gives her makes her want to sigh for all the wrong reasons. “Why?”

 

“Marcus take off the damn jeans or I’ll do it for you.” Even in the dark, she can see his eyes narrow, a challenge already brewing between them. “You wouldn’t.,” He teases, giving her a dumb look. In spite, she rolls onto him, undoing the button and grabbing the zip between her thumb and forefinger. “Oh but I would.” Even in the darkness, she can see his eyes go black with desire as she slowly peels off his jeans. 

 

She thinks, as he gently pulls her over him to capture her mouth, that every time between them will feel like the first. A little bit fumbling, a little bit awkward, lots of teasing but completely perfect.

 

Perfect in the way he turns them to hold her hands above her head and pepper kisses and bites all over her chest. Marking her as his while knowing full well that he is hers as well.

 

Perfect in the way their bodies fit together, connecting like the pieces of a puzzle. Bodies cradling one another in intimate embrace.

 

Perfect in the way his eyes never left hers as he filled her in one long stroke. Bleeding pure adoration from their cocoa-colored irises.

 

Perfect in the deep, desperate groan he makes as she clings to him, whispering words of love and affection into his ear.

 

Perfect in the way they simultaneously topple over the edge, breathing exclamations of the other’s name into sweat soaked skin.

 

Perfect in the way he holds her close, physically unable to let her stray more than an inch or two. Wanting to be as close as he can for as long- no forever, he wants to stay here forever.

 

_ This is where he belongs. _

 

No, not in an underground lab.

 

Not in some dark obscure alley bringing down street criminals.

 

And not in a place of doubt, crippled self-confidence, and absent self-worth.

 

_ Here, _ with her, feeling a peace he never thought possible.

 

By her side, loving her, caring for her, through every hardship, every mess up, every possible thing that could happen. 

 

He’s finally found his -

 

_ Knock Knock! _

 

“Are you guys dressed yet….are you even awake? It’ nearly 8 AM?” Raven calls from the other side of the door, and they laugh. 

 

His laugh rumbles deep and low in his chest, a man’s laugh carrying nothing but amusement.

 

She laughs  _ into _ his chest, feeling both hers and his as their laughs turn to giggles and then tears and finally into more laughter as Raven shouts something about idiots in love.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time I've done ANYTHING like this so feel free to wrinkle your nose and scream "What in the actual fuck was that"


	19. Game Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their fight is not over. It's just beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter before, longer one now, please enjoy, comment and kudos make my day every time.

Another knock on the door, this time louder and more insistent. “Rise and shine you two. You have a meeting with the mayor in two hours.” He recognizes the voice as Sinclair’s yet the giggles he hears coming from the other side are definitely still Raven’s. 

 

Reluctantly, they untangle themselves and slip back into the clothing they’d been in the process of donning an hour ago. With one last sweet kiss, Abby pushes open the door and steps out into the  _ crowd  _ that surrounds their bedroom. “ _ Finally,” _ Octavia groans, dragging Abby towards Bellamy’s room. Much to everyone’s dismay, the boy still hadn’t reverted back to himself. From what they’d gathered  _ ( _ what Abby had gathered and refused to tell Marcus exactly how and what it took) he was under the influence of a powerful drug. The process of draining it from his system was long and tedious but he was expected to make a full recovery. 

 

Raven drags him back into the room where he first got his suit, in it his suit was hung up. Except it was different, more armor, one of the sleeves was looked like it was completely metal. “While you two were off doing the unspeakable, I was actually being  _ productive, _ and since we clearly can’t trust the cops. I figured you’d want to be a little extra protected for the fight.” Without warning he bends down and opens his arms and pulls the girl into them, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for saving me,” he whispers letting her go but keeping his hands on her shoulders. She punches him in the arm playfully, “That makes it twice now Cowboy, even though  _ you’re _ supposed to be the heroic one.” He laughs and takes another look at the suit. “I’m no hero, just a guy in a really sweet Halloween costume.” Raven frowns and puts her hands on her hips, looking at him with  _ disappointment.  _ “That’s not true, I don’t see anyone else risking  _ everything  _ just to take down Griffin.” 

 

“ You, Sinclair,  _ everyone in this lab,” _ He says dryly, tucking his hands into his pockets and studying the floor. “We’re doing this because of  _ you.  _ You inspired all of us to look towards a brighter tomorrow.  _ You’re _ going to end this,  _ you’re _ going to be the one to lead those kids out of that place and back into the arms of their family,  _ you’re _ going to be the one to flush out those crooked cops and fix the justice system.” He’s a bit shocked by the sincerity in her voice, how she truly thinks that he has accomplished  _ anything  _ in his time as the so called  _ natwotcha,  _ but what kind of hero does these kinds of things to the people he loves? “That doesn’t make me a hero….” 

 

“Hero, a person who is admired or idealized for courage.” He frowns again, looking at her questioningly. “But I’m not-”

 

“Courage, the ability to do things which one finds frightening.” He tries to look away again but the determination in her eyes holds his gaze. He can’t look away as that fierce belief bleeds into his soul, filling him with the feeling that maybe he really could be a hero. That maybe he hasn’t failed anyone, just stumbled on the way. He can’t look away until he believes her words, and he doesn’t. Not until he’s repeating them on his own,  _ owning them. _ She hugs him this time, looking into his eyes with a smile when she steps back. “You really are a hero cowboy, now it’s time to look like one.” 

 

*******

 

He walked up the steps of City hall feeling a new strength, a new power, more alive. Not because of the new weight from his reinforced suit or new helmet display, or any of the fancy things Raven had added to his armor, but because of the hand clasped in his. His incredible Abby.

 

His hope.

 

His light.

 

His salvation.

 

_ His home. _

 

She gave him the strength he needed to be the hero the people of this city believed he was. Without her, he couldn’t do this. So as they reach the last step, he can’t help but say it. “I love you,” his voice cracked through the comms system of his helmet, it didn’t sound right all staticky and even a bit monotone but she smiled brightly, squeezed his hand and kissed his visor before opening the door.

 

The mayor’s security team parted for them instantly, all regarding with Abby with deep respect. Respect that she deserved. The mayor waited for them behind a large wooden desk twirling what looked like an intricate  _ letter cutter? _ “You bring me the  _ Natwotcha, _ I’ll take it that we’re ready for the battle then?” Abby nods and sits down across from her, looking as if she belongs there. In a position of power discussing action plans with the leader of their people. In his opinion,  _ and anyone in their right mind,  _ she  _ does  _ belong there. “Soldiers from the nearby reserves are waiting for our command just ask you requested.” 

 

“Good, any regular law enforcement isn’t to be trusted, we can’t tell how far AC’s reached into their personnel.” Lexa nodded, setting down the letter opener and focusing her attention on Marcus. “So you’re the man who discovered this all, I’ve heard much about you…..yet not your name.” He turns to Abby, who smiles softly and runs the pads of her fingers along his neck, unlocking his helmet. He tugs it off and sets it gently on the desk, extending his hand. “Marcus Kane.” She shakes his hand and the meeting begins. 

 

“I’m assuming you already have a plan Ms.Walters,” Lexa smirks, raising an eyebrow at Marcus’ small chuckle. “Yes, If we can get Griffin out of the building before we try to remove the kids he might not be able to give them orders. Going up from the ground floor is going to be impossible though, our surveillance showed us that after Marcus’ rescue all hatches and vents have been reinforced and walking in through the front is dangerous for everyone involved.” Lexa makes a noise of agreement turning in her chair to look at the skyline, right at the top of  _ AC  _ towers. “You require aerial transport.”

 

“Yes, I believe it’s our best shot at getting the kids out without causing further trauma, we don’t know what they’ve been through but anything that can make sure nothing else happens should be done.” He’s mesmerized by the way she carries herself, a true natural born leader. Confident, caring and resourceful. She’s amazing and he can’t help but want to give her the world. Even though he knows full well she could obtain it all on her own.  _ That’s just the way she works. _ He was distracted and the sudden nudge to his shoulder startles him. “Marcus you’re staring…..have you heard even a word of what I’ve said?” Abby asks, unable to hide the smile in her voice.  _ She knows exactly what’s going on inside his head. _ He’s said the same things enough that she’ll never forget them. He looks over to Mayor Woods who’s also sporting a knowing smirk. “I can’t help it, she’s just….. _ wow. _ ” Abby rolls her eyes and Lexa smirked even wider, nodding her head. “That she is, but that still doesn’t answer the question.” Giving a shy smile Marcus rubs the back of his neck nervously and says, “What  _ was  _ the question?” Both women laugh. “You were asked your thoughts on an aerial drop with one Octavia Blake.” That one’s easy, Octavia will make a fine partner, having already proved herself by saving his ass more than once. He has no hesitation in agreeing.”Sounds good to me.”

 

“Then it’s settled, rest and prepare the war begins in a day’s time…..Escort them out, Wallace.” Marcus turns and notices a pale man in a light blue suit standing guard at the door. “Yes Ms.Mayor,” he says as he waits for Abby and Marcus to pass, giving Marcus a very strange look as he exits. The man puts him off, leaves a sinking feeling in his gut but then Abby squeezes his hand and gives him a look that only means one thing and all thoughts of the strange guard leave his mind. 

 

He knows exactly what she’s planning but still gets butterflies in his stomach when she opens the back seat of the SUV and pulls him in after her.

 

His lips go straight for her neck, kissing from her collarbone all the way to her pulse point and along her jaw. Arms wrapping around her back to pull her closer to his body. “You’re adorable you know that right,” her voice breaks on the last word, lost in a choked moan when he pulls down her shirt to trace kisses in between her breasts. “I am not,” he replies, voice already wrecked from the way she tugs on his hair to pull him closer to her chest.

 

The tight metals and fabrics of his suit are painful against his growing hardness but he ignores it, choosing to murmur his love into her skin. Tugging on his hair, Abby pulled him up to claim his mouth, scratching at his scalp and making him groan. The sound of honking horns and angered commuters. “We’re never going to make it back when rush hour hits.” Propping herself up on her elbows, Abby gives him one last lingering kiss, swiping her tongue along the seam of his lips before pulling back and making him whimper slightly then clambering into the passenger seat. He slides into the driver’s seat and turns the car over, pulling carefully into the growing sea of cars on the streets. “Not that I’m complaining but…..what was  _ all that _ for?” She laughs and rolls her eyes, giving him a very dangerous smile. “One, because you're mine and I wanted to-”

 

“That’s two reasons,” he mutters and smacks him on the arm. “ _ Two,  _ Octavia will undoubtedly be dragging me away the second we get in there and you’ll have to brief everyone on the plan, which means we probably won’t have any time until tonight.”

 

“That’s….probably  _ exactly  _ what’ll happen, smart call.” 

 

“Well I’m a smart person,” she quips and he chuckles, turning off the main roads to try and cut out some of the traffic. “Brilliant actually.” She laughs and rolls her eyes again, looking up at the skyline. “Flattery’s not going to get you what you want Marcus.” 

 

“And how would you know what I want Ms.Walters,” he asks, dropping his voice low enough to send shivers down her spine. “Because I know  _ you  _ Mr.Kane, I know how you operate, anywhere anytime.” She reached over and trailed a hand down his chest, stopping to run her fingertips along his waist, the suit blocked some of the feeling but it still made him shiver. 

 

_ This woman was going to be the death of him and he was going to love every second of it. _

 

*******

 

He adjusted his climbing gear one last time, shaking and jiggling the harness and beaner connected to his waist. He wasn’t afraid of heights, but the only thing keeping him from slipping and free falling 35 floors onto pavement was a rope no thicker than his thumb. Octavia looked completely at ease, hanging by that same rope 350 feet in the air. “Hurry up would you, I’d like to get this over with.” He arches an eyebrow, looking down at her from over the ledge. “You act like this is just a regular day,  _ why?” _ She glares at him and reluctantly, he grabs the rope and repels down to her level, re-stating the question with his eyes. She rolls hers and starts descending. “Trikru isn’t some band of thugs, we’re trained. Experts in more types of combat than you can count. Reformed criminals working to clean up the street. Heda’s secret army.”

 

“What-” She cuts him off with a raised head and glare that means business. “Whatever you’re about to ask is above your pay grade. All you need to know is you’ve somehow become our mascot so don’t fuck this up.” A few moments later she stops, pulling out a small torch. “We’re here.” 

 

They drop into the building less than twenty feet from the door of the office. It’s deserted and dead silent, all except for the hum of machines that lay trapped inside the drywall. Just as Lincoln and Indra assured it would be, the combined force of the Trikru and reserve soldiers stationed at the front entrance creating a very big and very difficult distraction. “This place should be destroyed when this over,” Octavia hissed, working to silently unlock the door. “With someone else at the helm, this place could still do good for this world.” Octavia looked back and shook her head, “Focus Kane, don’t go all nautical on me.” He huffed a laugh and reached around to his back, feeling the satisfying  _ thump  _ of his batons gravitating into his hands. “ _ Skaikru en hodgeda, _ ” Octavia whispered into the small radio receiver sewn into her sleeve. Alerting the ground units they were ready.  _ “Bos lot,”  _ Indra said, wishing them luck, at least that’s what he thought it meant. 

Octavia cracked open the door gently, the element of surprise was a friend they didn’t want to lose. Except they were too many voices in the room. 

 

“You promised me that you’d catch  _ and keep  _ the damn fool, you had one job and you let yourself get distracted,” the strange voice hissed and something loud crashed onto the floor. “Hey, calm down I’ve still got this,  _ we’ve  _ got this we’re still in control,” Jake said sounding strained and even a bit panicked, Octavia made a move to breach into the room but he halted her. This conversation needed to play out before they entered, disrupting it would be a loss of possibly vital intel. “No  _ you  _ don’t, I know I can handle this but you’ve failed and frankly I’m starting to think you belong downstairs with the others.” 

 

“No no no, you can’t do that man, come on we had a deal remember?” Marcus was getting tense, none of this made sense.  _ Who did Jake make a deal with? Why did it sound like he wasn’t in control? What’s really going on in this place? _ “Yes, but you failed to hold up your end, voiding that contract then and there….. He was supposed to be the driving force behind this agenda and all of our plans once he was injected and you what….. Let him slip away with some low-life  _ teenager? _ You’re pathetic you know that right, our fathers didn’t start this alliance for you to screw it up.” Marcus frowned, things were just getting more and more confusing. He’d been so sure that he’d cracked this case wide open, knew everything, but this was starting to seem like he was fighting a battle with a Hydra. Cut one head off, think you’re getting somewhere, only for two more to pop up when you least expect it.  _ What else was the world going to throw at him today? _ “Come on, we’re smart guys we can still do this, we’ve still got this.” 

 

The unknown sighed loudly, he could feel the tension in the room growing, with no telling what would happen when it peaked. “You idiot, they’re coming, everyone outside this building is part of the  _ army  _ assembled to ruin us. You ruined everything, and now I’m going to have to clean up your mess.” He can hear something rolling across the floor and then another loud crash. “I never signed up for this, I’m only here to save my mother! I never wanted any of this! I took this company over to do  _ actual _ good, none of this is right! I’ve ripped apart so many families doing your dirty work Cage!  _ Children _ , people who haven’t even lived yet, haven’t experienced what this world has to offer,  _ dead _ .”

 

“This world has  _ nothing _ to offer!” Cage roared before there was another crash. He assumed a vase or some kind of glass. “This place is a disease, we’re trapped in a half life. Living beneath a crooked Government burying us in lies.” Jake laughs, a deep laugh only coming from someone teetering near the edge of insanity. “You’re wrong, this world…..  _ It’s everything.” _ There’s a final crash followed swiftly by a cry of agony. Marcus can’t wait any longer and kicks open the door. Baton’s gleaming in the remaining sunlight. The sight before him shocks and terrifies him all at once.

 

Wallace,  _ Cage Wallace the man who’d escorted them from the Mayor’s office, _ stood with a gun pressed firmly into Jake Griffin’s temple. He had one arm around Jake’s throat, slowly draining the life out of him. The choked little gasps shot Marcus back to the time when it was  _ his _ arm squeezing the air from his throat,  _ his arm _ making him gasp and sputter in a blind rage. He felt awful now, Jake had never been the enemy, just a man trying to protect his family and getting too caught up in an awful mess. “Drop it,” Octavia snarled, raising an arm poised to launch a knife into Cage’s body, but he hid behind Jake’s pressing the barrel harder and making him choke out a cry. “Ahhh the dynamic duo, you’re late.” Marcus snarled, he was glad the man couldn’t read his face behind the dark visor that was giving him a readout of Cage’s vitals; it would be too much satisfaction for the bastard to get to revel in the anger he was drawing forth.

 

Marcus cursed his choice of non-lethal weapons, with one well-aimed shot he could take Cage out-  _ no,  _ death was much too merciful for scum like him. He deserved to rot, surrounded by guilt and loathing  _ forever.  _ “Give it up Cage, the gigs up you’re surrounded, our team will walk through that door any second and light you up like a Christmas tree.” A sinister laugh echoes around the room, Jake begins to tremble and shake from decreased oxygen, his eyes fluttering and becoming heavy. “That’s funny because if anyone walks through that door, lover boy here takes one for the team.” His face sagged, they were trapped and everyone knew it. They had no backup, no plan, and no way to escape. It seemed like the whole operation was….. _ over.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't have Jake be the bad guy anymore, he really is just a cinnamon roll. Plot twist is nice tho right?


	20. Section 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very insane, and probably downright suicidal idea slowly crept into his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys we really are getting close to the end here, there can't be what? More than two chapters left in this puppy! So glad to have you guys along for the ride though. I love all of you.

For some reason, his thoughts wandered back to the day this all start. The day a band of fresh graduates chased him out of the school building and into the cool night air. The day he found that woman being beaten and robbed and given the crook a swift taste of the people’s justice, while also getting his ass kicked. The day his life was altered, possibly permanently, and he didn’t even realize it. He remembers thinking he wasn’t afraid as they chased and hollered at him, he doesn’t remember being afraid when fighting that guy either. Except right now, here in this room with a seemingly impossible choice; make a move and end the life of an innocent, or surrender and risk the fate of everyone…… _ he was scared. _

 

Because either way he chose, there’d be blood on his hands. He’s forced to choose between the life of a man he’d still consider a friend even after their years of animosity, and the lives of hundreds,  _ possibly thousands,  _ of citizens. It should’ve been an easy choice, sacrifice the few to save the many.  _ In all honesty, it should have been a simple choice. _

 

It wasn’t.

 

Nothing about it was simple, he couldn’t just be logical and condemn a man to his death right before his eyes.  _ He was running out of time but had nothing to work with.  _

 

Until his earpiece crackled to life, Sinclair’s voice calling for his attention. He said they saw everything through the cameras in his helmet. That they saw the dilemma and implied he heard Marcus’ silent plea for help. “We’re going to set off the sprinklers, once they’re soaked toss one and only  _ one  _ charged baton into the puddle at their feet. It should be enough current to separate them, hopefully enough to knock them out.” Marcus smiled, imperceptibly switching on the electric current, and sure enough in 3 seconds flat the fire alarms screamed and water began pouring down on them.

 

Octavia’s hand twitch, still clutching the knife ready to launch it at her enemy. Marcus moved first, doing exactly as Sinclair instructed and tossing the charged weapon into the growing puddle of water. Current leaped up and around the men’s feet, it worked just like he said it would and they both jumped in surprised pain. Thankfully, Jake was lucky and jumped forward, out of Cages reach, making him shout in anger and wave his gun wildly. “ _ Move and die!”  _ He roared, face contorting in rage and disgust. “I’m not afraid to kill all of you, I’m not afraid to kill  _ anyone.”  _ A very insane, and probably downright suicidal idea slowly crept into his mind. Sending one last prayer to Sinclair and this suit, Marcus Kane, watcher of the night  _ took a tentative step forward.  _ Cage’s eyes flared and he waved the weapon again, hand tightening around the grip. “Don’t get  _ smart  _ with me asshole, I will kill you.” With a deep breath and a gathering of all the courage Raven had bestowed upon him, Marcus reaches his hand back and allowed the last weapon he had on him to return to its place. Leaving him unarmed and defenseless. Wallace looked confused, distrust showing clearly in his posture and expression. “W-what are you doing?” 

 

“I want to get to know you, it’s not very polite conversation if you're both hostile….my mother taught me that.” Cage shook his head. “Your mother was killed by one of my men while-”

 

“While trying to save a little boy,” he interjected. “I know.” At Marcus’ level tone and relaxed posture, there was a small slump in Cage’s shoulders. A sag in his stance, the clearing of his eyes. It was progress, he might actually be able to talk him down from this. “I want to help you Cage, I want to find out what happened that made you hate this world so fiercely.” The grip on the gun faltered, he didn’t relinquish it but it dropped at least 5 inches,  _ progress. _ “You wouldn’t understand,” the man whispered, lowering his eyes to the floor and sitting on the desk. He recognized the posture, one of a man who’d spent his entire with so much loathing and regret it had hardened him and erased the person he was before. “I didn’t have that great of a childhood either, if- if that’s what you mean. My dad was a drunk, he’d always hurt me and my mom after screaming the most unspeakable things at us….  _ I know what it feels like. _ Some days you can still see the marks all over my back, my arms…..his and mine. You are  _ not  _ alone.” He can see a few tears running down Cage’s face, his vital signs show a drop in adrenaline.  _ Progress. _ “Is that what happened to you?” Cage nods, sniffling and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeves. “Yes and no…..my father he...he was a good man but he got caught with some crooked guys and they….they threatened my life, my dad tried to put a stop to it but it cost him his humanity, he was never the same again and eventually dropped off the grid. My mother was  _ devastated, _ she blamed me for everything, made me hate myself so much I could barely stand existing. I almost ended it but he came back, pulled me out of the rut and  _ everything was different.  _ I got a new perspective on the world and a mission. To finish his work, complete his dream, to make everything okay.” Cage’s eyes and words had gone distant, lacking the emotion you’d expect from a story like this. It put Marcus on edge, made him want to reach back and grab his baton, but even the slightest movement could set off a deadly chain reaction. “This isn’t the way to do that though, there are better ways. I can help you complete that dream, you just gotta let go we can all get through this.” The vitals spiked, his heart rate increased and so did his blood pressure.  _ He’d kicked the hornet's nest. _ “You can’t help me, I bet your soldiers are charging up the stairs right now to arrest me,” He slid off the desk and took two steps closer to Marcus, only eight feet of empty space stood between them. Gun raised and death in his eyes Cage spoke, “If I go down, you go down with me.” 

 

*******

 

There was a loud crack and then the sound of heavy groaning. She saw the flash of a smile on Cage’s face as Marcus fell. She felt everything inside her crash, Sinclair is the one to catch her as she wobbled on her feet. Whispering into her ear and soothing her like she didn’t just watch the man she loves die at the hands of a psychotic murderer. There was a shout and then a scream, Abby couldn’t listen anymore she tried shutting down the feed.  _ The whole thing was over anyways? _ But Raven blocked her. “Abby….Abby…..  _ Abby look!”  _ She urged, trying to turn her attention to the monitor she didn’t want to look at. She didn’t want to see his flatline, his lack of a pulse. Cage Wallace had put a bullet in his brain there was no reason to look at the-

 

_ Beep. _

 

_ Beep. _

 

_ Beep, _

 

_ Beep. _

 

There it was, the steady sound of a strong heartbeat as Raven turned up the monitor's volume. “He’s bulletproof Abby.”

 

*******

 

His head hurt like a bitch but he’s alive. The worst of his injuries seem to be a possible concussion and some gashes on his forehead, but the suit did its job and kept him alive. He stayed on the ground unmoving, it was better if Cage thought he was dead, that put everyone in less danger.  _ “Gon ai bro!”  _ Octavia roared, hurling the small dagger at Cage with expert aim, hitting him in the shoulder and taking him down. She lunged towards him and ripped the knife out, droplets of copper flying in all directions as he screamed in pain.  _ “Gon ai nomon!” _ She shrieks, bringing the knife over her head for a killing blow. Marcus grips her wrist with great force. “You can’t kill him,” he says softly, looking at the bleeding and crying man on the ground. “ _ Jus drein jus daun,” _ Octavia hissed, trying to free herself from his death grip. Marcus picked up the fallen gun and magnetized it to his back after emptying the clip and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Octavia you can’t kill him, you’re not an officer. It’d be murder and you’d never see your brother again,” she kicks him hard in the chest, making more blood leak from his wounds. Marcus rips the fabric of his Cage’s dress shirt with the knife that was only just moments ago lodged in his shoulder. Using the strips of fabric to field bandage the wound and stop some of the bleeding. As he cleaned the wound with a wet strip, Marcus took another look at the man. His forehead was soaked in sweat from the exertion of trying not to scream and he had tears in his eyes. His clothes were stained red and he looked lost and hopeless.  _ Marcus almost felt bad.  _ As he finished tying off the makeshift bandage Marcus whispered, “I tried to help you.” Cage just groans and looks away. “I tried to help you but it’s over now, the least you could do is tell us where the kids are so we can get them back to their families.” Cage looked at Octavia who was ordering both Reserve and Trikru soldiers for a cleanup effort, looking for files on crooked cops and anybody connected with all this. They took boxes and boxes of manila folders, all of Cage’s work  _ gone. _ “Come on Cage, you can do  _ one good thing, _ right here right now. What have you got to lose?” 

 

“They’re in the basement, sections 17 through 24,” the man said, sounding even more lost than he looks. One of the soldiers walked over to Marcus and handed him a black canister before helping to gently haul Cage up to take them to the right section. 

 

*******

 

Abby pulled out her phone, watching as the trickle of soldiers moving in the building began to disappear behind the walls, _they’d won._ _It was all over, they were safe now._ It was an overwhelming surge of relief when Octavia had informed them Cage was no longer a threat, she’d sagged in her chair and said her thanks to whoever was listening. Congratulated her team and slipped out of the vehicle they’d turned into their command center to call the Mayor. “We did it!” Is the thing she cheers when the call connects. “Excellent, and what about the kids?”

 

“I’ve called the local hospitals, they’re preparing staff and everyone is being trained on how to properly deal with withdrawal from the mind control serum.”

 

“You’ve done well,” Abby could hear the smile in Lexa’s voice and could barely contain her own excitement. “Soon this mess will be cleaned up and you call can return to your normal lives.”  _ Normal, _ she thought,  _ had never sounded so appealing.  _

 

*******

 

He held the empty canister in his hands, looking at the unconscious bodies of roughly 300 teens laying on the floor. As soon as they’d entered with a beaten and restrained Cage, the Reapers had gone wild, drawing weapons from every corner of the compound. Without a second thought he set off the canister and everyone except his detail went down. Soldiers were now carrying them out on stretchers, waiting to be transported to the hospitals and finally,  _ finally,  _ reunited with their families. For all the terror and destruction that had happened in just a few short weeks, he felt light, airy, _ free. _ It was odd really, with how much danger they’d all been in, that he could just shrug off the trauma and continue living, but maybe that’s what heroes do sometimes. Or the more likely answer was it wasn’t overly dramatic, just scary and overwhelming at times. Maybe he really did have courage,  _ maybe he really was a hero. _

 

The sound of a forced cough broke him out of his thoughts and he looked over to a shaken Jake Griffin with his hands jammed in his pockets. “I uhh…. Wanted to apologize for, for….  _ Everything.  _ I fucked up pretty bad and a lot of people got hurt. I understand I’ll probably never be able to make this up to you,  _ or anyone for the matter _ but I really am-” Marcus holds up a hand, stripping off his helmet and pulling the man into a tight hug. “That is already forgiven Jake, you were just trying to save your family.” Jake nods and pulls away, his hands fidgeting his hands in his pockets again. Pulling one hand out, he extends one closed hand out to Marcus, dropping something into his open palm.  _ “ _ This belongs to you,” He says, smiling weakly at him and walking off. 

 

_ In Marcus’ hand was a little black box. _

 


	21. Duty Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A joyful end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is guys. The ending. It's all over. The city is safe (for now). I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who read to the end and made me smile and gush every time I came home to a Kudo, a comment, or even just a single hit. These little things make me feel truly blessed everytime I see them. So thank you because none of this would be possible without each and every one of you.
> 
> The notes at the end are kinda important, I'd really suggest you read them you never know what it might inspire.

When every last reaper had been loaded up and transported to a hospital, he and Jake grabbed Cage by the arms and hauled him up. Beginning the slow trek past the prison cells and out to the waiting public. Marcus could see the pain and guilt in Jake’s eyes as they walked along the rows of cells; cells that had held children captive until their minds could be taken over. He was visibly hurting so Marcus picked up his pace and rounded the corner, exiting the prison section and shoving cage into the elevator. Pressing the button for the ground floor and watching the digital number climb slowly until it stopped, displaying a bright red G. Marcus would’ve preferred a more peaceful ending, one that didn’t involve sedative gasses and stab wounds but he was grateful no one lost their life. “You ready?” He asks, knowing how high strung Jake already is, and expecting the crowd to be absolutely dripping with chaotic energy. “As I’ll ever be,” he replies weakly, adjusting his grip on Cage’s arm. Who, since being apprehended, hadn’t spoken a word. 

 

Two soldiers flank them as they drag Cage out, ready to hand him over to a group of federal agents. Except, when the public catches sight of a free-walking Jake, all hell breaks loose. People swarm them, shouting and trying to land hits on the man.  _ No one thought to tell them of Jake’s innocence. _ Marcus shoves Cage at one of the feds and dives into the horde. Several blows land on his face and torso but he ignores the pain and pushes further through the crowd. Not stopping until he’s able to shield Jake with his body. He’s not sure how many people he restrains or gently, as gently as you really can in this situation, moves out of the way before a shot echoes around the space. Halting everyone and startling most.

 

Flanked by two agents, Mayor Woods holsters the weapon she discharged moments ago. She points at Jake declaring his innocence loud enough for all to hear. Multiple shouts of argument ring out prompting more guards to surround Jake. “This man was an unwilling participant forced into one of the greatest battles our city has ever faced. With the downfall of the true criminal, we should take it in our hearts to find peace in our hearts in order to recover from this ordeal. No more blood need be shed for the battle is won!” Every member of the Trikru army cheered, shouting words he had yet to learn in Trig. More of the crowd began cheering in English, forgetting all about the violence just minutes ago. No one noticed Marcus slipping away to find Abby. No one notices how nervous he is, the way his hands shake or how he can’t find the right words to say, or how he’s gripping something in his hand so tightly it’s bound to break. If someone did notice, they’d blame adrenaline or endorphins or some other logical reason. 

 

He’s sweaty, there’s blood on his forehead and he probably smells awful. Not to mention that this is probably the least romantic time to do this,  _ he just can’t help it. _ Unable to speak just yet, he drops to one knee and opens that little box. The one he’s had for years, saved in their apartment.  _ Waiting. _ Abby’s facing away from him, unaware of the actions going on behind her. That is until Raven gasps, Sinclair’s mouth drops open, Octavia’s knife clangs to the ground, Indra well, she just smiles which is strange in itself. 

 

When she does turn around, a hand flies to her mouth hiding a gasp. He still can’t speak, what do you even say to a woman like her. How do you ask to be allowed to spend the rest of your life by her side in a way that shows every ounce of emotion flowing through your body?  _ How?  _

 

The only things running through his mind are how he  _ really, really,  _ _ really _ _ , _ wants to get this right, and how much he loves her. In lieu of both those thoughts,  _ he starts babbling. _

 

“Abigail Rose Walters, from the day I met you you’ve always been there for me. Through thick and thin, good times and bad,  _ always. _ Managing to pick me up and put me back on my feet when I fell to my knees, and I know with nearly full certainty that without you I wouldn’t be standing, err kneeling here today. You are an incredible, intelligent, compassionate, beautiful, amazing person, who deserves to be reminded of those things every single day. I’m just hoping you’ll allow me to be that man……. _ will you marry me?” _ For a long moment, she doesn’t speak and that terrifies him. Maybe she doesn’t want this? Maybe she never did.

 

He feels incredibly stupid for thinking these things not even seconds later as her body crashes against his. Nearly knocking him flat on his back. Her lips lower gently onto his, kissing him softly and sweetly as what he hopes are tears of joy run down her cheeks, caressing his skin as they fall. “You have to  _ say it!” _ Raven shouts, making them slowly part. With her hands still in his hair and forehead pressed against his, “Yes, yes, of course, yes Marcus, it’s always been you, no one else, _ just you.” _ The sentiment brings free spilling tears that mingle with hers on their skin. He pulls them up so he can kiss her properly, the way she deserves to be kissed. Fully body and dripping with love, passion, and everything making his heart flip inside his chest. 

 

The cacophonous applause startles the life out of them. He’d forgotten all about the crowd. The nearing thousands of people gathered, watching the spectacle, cheering for their  _ engagement.  _ “So much for keep out of the public eye,” Marcus mumbled and Abby laughs, hugging him tightly. “I love you, Marcus.” 

 

*******

**Two weeks later**

 

Marcus sat eating his breakfast and sipping a mug of coffee in  _ their  _ apartment. Generously provided in Jake Griffin’s last act as CEO of AeroCorp. After everything that had happened, he hadn’t felt like he was capable of manning it anymore, stepping down and giving the position to someone he felt truly deserved it. Marcus had backed him on the decision 100%. 

 

Jacapo Sinclair had been appointed the head of the company just a few short days after its liberation. Who added one very excited Raven Reyes to the growing list of up-and-coming engineering prodigies. All local youth aiming to make the world a better place with their ideas and innovation. 

 

All this was what was plastered over the second page of headlines as Marcus sat reading the morning paper. What was on the first page you might ask?

 

“You know it’s strange seeing things preparing to print about your own engagement,” Abby jokes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his pulse point. He just sighs and sets his paper down, tilting his head to grant her further access. “So you're in  _ that _ kind of mood this morning.” She hums and nips at a particularly sensitive patch of skin. “You can’t really blame me when the first thing I see when I wake up is my fiancé silhouetted by the morning light in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.” She steps around to look at him, bracing her arms against the rests of his chair. The only fabric covering her body is an oversized button down that barely reaches mid thigh. “Seeing as you aren’t modestly either I reject your complaint,” he growls, pulling her into his lap. She smiles and threads her fingers through his hair and scratching at his scalp. Something that never fails to stir a noise from deep in his throat. “Who says I was complaining?” She smirks and fuses their mouths together, licking the seam of his lips and making him growl. His touch is burning hot on her waist and she can feel his hardness pressing perfectly into the apex of her thighs, creating a delicious friction. “Well reading into the context of your wording and overall-” She pulls his lips back to hers, cutting him off with a particularly intense roll of her hips. 

 

They kiss until they both feel faint from lack of oxygen, their panting breaths mingling together in the limited space between them. “When do you want to have the wedding?” Marcus says, sucking in a deep breath when she shifts her body weight. “How about next week?”

 

“Eager much,” he laughs, tracing patterns on the soft skin of her back. “The sooner you belong to me, the better.” She murmurs huskily, scraping her nails down his back almost punishingly. Leaving 10 long, bright red marks. “I’ve always belonged to you darling,  _ always.” _ He’s still tracing patterns on her back when he whispers this into her neck, it takes a moment but she recognizes them. The loop of a Y, the circle of an O, ending with the twist of an S.

 

_ Y-o-u-r-s. _

 

They’re late to the hospital because, after an encounter like that, they can’t help lingering and  _ enjoying  _ the silence of the morning by breaking it.

 

*******

 

A few reporters hound them as Marcus helps her step from the car, the flashes don’t bother her. Although it is a strange feeling not to be the one taking the pictures but instead the focus. Marcus carries himself just as well, smiling and waving, even answering a few questions. Only stuttering when someone brings something up about any possible children. 

 

10 minutes pass before they break away and slip inside the building. Marcus had wanted to be here for the release of all 349 former-reapers. The parents and loved ones all gathered in the cafeteria that had been cleared out just for this occasion. 

 

In addition to Marcus and Abby’s presence, the rest of their team also stood proudly. Meaning, Octavia, Raven, Sinclair, Lincoln, Callie, and even Indra. The doors open and the long line of tearful teens trickled in, eyes wide and searching for their families. Abruptly, one girl looking around 15 came up and hugged him fiercely, her joyful tears darkening the fabric of his shirt. “Harper?” A man in front of the hugging duo called, at the sound of the voice the girl whipped around. A sob breaking free from her throat as she jumped into the man’s arms. 

 

Sobs, and cries, and proclamations of love echoed all around the room. Marcus was not exempt to the tears or overwhelming emotion. None of them were. Seeing all these families made whole again was moving. After years of hopelessness, anguish, and begging for the return of loved ones,  _ it was finally happening. _ There was just one person missing, the man who had organized the event. Done hours of research while confined to a hospital bed. Looking for each every last child’s family. 

 

_ Jake. _

 

As if able to read his thoughts, Jake appeared and stood by his side. “It still haunts me you know, the things I did to these people. I don’t think it will ever leave me…..I honestly don’t think I want it to. It’s a small price to pay for the sins I’ve committed.”

 

“You didn’t do it because you wanted to, you were saving your family.” Marcus pulls the man into a tight hug, pushing out any remaining demons between them. Jake doesn’t lose the pained look in his eyes but smiles and turns back to the crowd.  _ He’ll find his peace eventually. _

 

*******

 

Marcus is sound asleep when it happens. An annoying buzz that pulls him from his dreams. A harsh sound emanating from the ‘watch’ on his wrist.Signaling him that he’s needed somewhere.  It wakes Abby too, who groans and shoves a pillow in his face telling him to be quiet. Unwillingly, he slips out of bed and feels for the familiar fabric he knows his hanging somewhere on the left. “Get back here, I’m cold,” Abby mumbles and he laughs. “Duty calls.”

 

“Fuck duty,  _ I’m cold.” _ He laughs again and narrowly dodges the pillow she launches. “You know I can’t stay, gotta go fight for the greater good and all.” 

 

“I am your almost wife, I am-” Marcus dips his head down, now dressed, with helmet in hand, to press a soft kiss to her lips. “The greatest good I am ever going to get, I know.” She groans again and curls up under the blankets. “Just don’t get your ass kicked okay? I won’t be patching you up at 4 in the morning.”

 

“Yes Ma’am,” he says mockingly, heading for the door and grabbing his motorcycle keys.  _ Another gift from Sinclair.  _ “I love you,” he calls out, unwilling to leave until he hears a soft  _ love you too _ in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning this end note since chapter one, so here it is. Enjoy the word vomit. 
> 
> There's a meaning to this story I just want to make very clear. Anyone can be a hero. It doesn't take fancy suits or big muscles or any of the things you see with stereotypical heroes these days. Heroes don't need typical villains either, A hero can be someone just fighting for what they believe in through adversity.
> 
> Yes, Marcus was viewed as and called a superhero, BUT HE IS NOT THE ONLY ONE. 
> 
> I wanted Abby's heroics and take charge attitude to be evident. Her coolness under pressure and adversity, her ability to make the hard choices even if it meant the possibility of losing someone or something. Abby is a hero, she doesn't wear a cape and she can't punch through walls. She is a hero for fighting what she believes in and never giving up, for being brave when most would cower. She is a hero. 
> 
> Raven is a hero.  
> Yes at one point for about 30 seconds she was in need of rescue, but she kept a level head and fought back. Saving Marcus' ass in the process. Because she is a hero. She could've run, could've taken her shot and left him for dead, but no. She did the right thing, stood up to the bully, and that is heroic. 
> 
> Sinclair is a hero.  
> He saw that something was deeply wrong and pushed to fix it. It cost him his job and put a target on his back but he kept at it. Finding a team that could help him make things right. Using his mind to work through an around problems some would just give up on.
> 
> THEY'RE ALL HEROES. And you can be too. I bet you already are.
> 
> I can't stress this enough, any of you can be heroes in your own special way. Stand up to that bully, fight for the good in the world. Pick someone up when they're down. Give a compliment, share a joke, just smile at someone even. Be an everyday hero by brightening your world. It doesn't take much, just a little bit of hope, and a desire to make this Earth a better place and you'll see how much good can spread.
> 
> Love people for who they are and learn to forgive, only then will the beauty of this world truly hit you.


End file.
